


Byleth's Final Divine Pulse

by Kyriptid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Divine Pulse (Fire Emblem), Divine Pulse Deaths (Fire Emblem), Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Multi, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriptid/pseuds/Kyriptid
Summary: Remire. The mock battle. The ball. The war. Byleth has seen it all too many times to count, and yet she has kept count.She has to go back for everyone, even if she ends up destroying herself to do it.Byleth has the knowledge of a player who has played through every route in the game multiple times, and she is working as hard as she can to save every last one of her students from tearing each other apart. Her path is impossible, but so is raising Nemesis from the grave and anyone besides him wielding the Sword of the Creator.Can the universe spare Byleth one last miracle?
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Sothis
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	1. A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, this one is a doozie. I've been brewing the idea of it for a while and I've finally decided to begin posting it. As of the first chapter being posted I have eight finished so far. I'll post them periodically, and once I'm out of those I've already made I'll post once each chapter is complete. I have the skeleton and rough draft, but I'm not entirely sure how long it will end up being. Thank you for your patience with this! 
> 
> A lot of it is self indulge-y with the Casphardt and the triangle bromance between those two and Ashe, but again I'm writing this more for myself than anyone else. If you actually find yourself liking it too, then all the better!
> 
> Thanks again for stopping by!

A knock on the door snapped Linhardt from his brewing thoughts. Rather than make the effort of standing and opening the door, he hummed his welcome to his visitor without moving. Normally, he would have forced himself up to open the door and double check that his company should truly be welcomed, but he already knows by the sound of the knock and the hour of the night who would dare bother him in this moment. Sure enough, in creeps Caspar, in the flesh, frowning despite seeing his friend awake. 

"Hey Linhardt."

Another hum responded to his greeting as he picked his way around the books on the floor to stand closer to the bed. 

"You still up?"

" _No_ ," Linhardt drawled, making sure to force an exaggerated yawn out of his chest to secure his point, "I am sleep sitting up and sleep talking to you. But if you're here to ask me something, do make it quick?"

Caspar huffed something about 'being rude before saying anything', but both of them know there was no venom in either of their tones. 

"I just... Wanted to.. Ask.."

"Yes?"

"Shut it! I dunno how to ask this right now..."

Linhardt raised an eyebrow that likely went unnoticed in the shadows of his room. There was a new moon in the sky, after all.

Caspar started over, "I came in here to ask who you would side with."

Linhardt knew why he was here before he even knocked on the door. But his friend's obvious stress did not let him relish his foresight. They were apparently at war right now against their wishes. Edelgard just declared so against the church. Everyone had scrambled to prepare, and the students were all taking it very differently. But for the most part they were all distraught. Understandably so, Linhardt conceded. 

Fighting, in all senses of the words, sucks ass.

"Well... I have _my_ preference. But who are you siding with?"

Caspar opened his mouth to respond, furrowed his brow, then snapped his hands to his hips with a frustrated grumble. 

"I asked you first!!!"

Linhardt stretched his arms above his head, yawning leisurely as he did. He typically does something akin to this as his way of saying 'I'm bored. Going to sleep now. Good bye.' Of course, in this instance, he only meant it in a 'I'm not budging on this' sort of way. 

Surprisingly enough, Caspar read this and threw up his head to glare at the ceiling and groan. 

"Fine!! Fine."

Once his chin had returned to its usual angle and a hand moved to rub the back of his neck, he begrudgingly answered his question, "I... Know my father will support Edelgard. He was always very, uh, gung-ho about her ideals 'n stuff. I dunno. He never told me anything, but would always scold me when I talked about her in any way but admiring. Which was, like, every time."

He paused, eyes having unfocused as he instead peered into his own memories, "But... Standing against her is kinda scary. Not as bad as standing against my father, though."

Linhardt did not reveal his thoughts on the matter quite yet, and nudged Caspar to continue with a faint nod of his head.

"But, I dunno, at the same time, I really like our classmates. The Professor seemed so happy when I asked to join her class after she recruited you. I told her it was because she seemed to have a better understanding of fighting than Manuela did, but it was honestly because I can't really, well, focus in class well unless you're there with me."

Linhardt nodded again. This was not news to him, nor was it anything new for Caspar to say. They both knew they focused better in each others' presences. Linhardt may sleep during class, but when he studied in the library he often got more done when Caspar kept him company. "So... You are thinking of protecting Garreg Mach?"

Caspar thought about it for a second, which is honestly longer than he thinks about anything, and nodded. "Yeah. I dunno if I could bring myself to fight all of my friends. Claude is pretty cool and I really enjoy Raphael's company. Not to mention that's where Ashe is too, and he is, like, my second favorite person in the world! Even if he is a little soft on criminals." Just thinking about all the friends he knew would stay behind to defend the monastery instilled a sense of peace in the young grappler. He was back to smiling in no time.

"So... Yeah! I think I'm gonna stay here! I dunno about Ferdinand or Petra, though.. They may be in our class now, but that doesn't mean they won't return to Edelgard's side! I would like to try fighting them, but not to the death."

Linhardt seemed lost in thoughts, as he often is, until a hand on his shoulder snapped him from it. Caspar's smile had been replaced with a worried frown. 

"You... ARE gonna stick here, right? 'Cuz if you do wanna go back to the empire, that's fine! I'll just suck it up and pack my bags and we can find a way to snea-"

"Caspar," Linhardt interrupted him not only with his words but also a hand covering the other boy's mouth, "I planned on staying here, too. And I am very glad I did not have to change plans due to your decision. I suppose..." His eyes broke their stare as they travelled over to the window thoughtfully. "I... Just am not prepared for true war. I had been stressing over your decision for a while, but now that that is no longer an issue, everything else has started to sink in."

Caspar gently nudged Linhardt's hand from his mouth. His frown had relaxed, but he was not smiling either. 

"I hear ya. I'm sure we will be fine with the Professor and Claude and the knights but, it's still a little much. The death knight was cool 'n all, and I still wanna fight him, but... That is just me being in danger. War means everyone is in danger, y'know?"

His voice had become uncharacteristically quiet and his brows were pinched in worry. It wasn't like him to stress about much, least of all fighting, but not even Caspar was immune to the fear of mortality. Even if that fear was not necessarily directed towards his own mortality.

"And I know how much you hate fighting."

Linhardt moved his right hand up to cover over where Caspar's still rested on his shoulder. They were both scared. Rightfully so. War was hanging over them like a guillotine, and they only had barely two weeks to find their resolve and steel themselves for it. Byleth had been pushing them for exams the last two months, and now it was becoming apparent why. While it was worrisome that Byleth had foresaw this, neither boy could find too great of a suspicion in her actions to justify changing sides. She had always been acutely aware of everything, and the way she commanded everyone in battle was almost like she could predict the enemy down to their breathing cycles. Tasting the tension in the air and noticing Edelgard and Hubert's gradual withdrawal from the others had to have been enough to tip her off.

At least that's what Linhardt believes. Mostly. 

"I do. I hate seeing the blood more than anything. Which is why I'm so glad my magic typically keeps all of their insides, well, inside. White magic, on the other hand..."

"Yeah."

Yet another conversation they have had before. Linhardt hates fighting, hates seeing his friends hurt, hates blood, but he does it because he hates the hassle of funerals far more. At least, that is what he says, but deep down he truly does care about his friends and allies. He does it for them. 

And also because running from the fight would likely prove far more strenuous and far less successful. 

"Well, now that that is out of the way, are you done here?"

Caspar shifted feet. "Yeah. I guess. I'm gonna go tr-"

"Do not finish that sentence."

Linhardt's eyes drooped into what is usually a tired expression, but because of the angle of his eyebrows, not only was it tired but also annoyed. 

"You will go to bed. You need your strength, and training until dawn will not help you keep your head on your shoulders tomorrow."

"But-"

"I also know you will not sleep in your own room. Just to spite me you will stand in the corner and punch the air," Caspar struggled to retort, and failed, "until, once again, the sun peeks over the hills. Don't even try to argue with me."

"I can't SLEEP right now! I'm too antsy!!"

He threw both arms into the air to punctuate his exasperation. He may have shouted that a little too loud, but everyone around both of their rooms had become accustomed to his disturbances. 

Linhardt did not have the energy to chide him for his volume. 

"You can and you will. You can stay in here with me if you think that will help."

Caspar lowered his arms with a stormy pout. He couldn't bring himself to argue the seemingly moot point further, so he stomped over to the chair by Linhardt's desk and plopped into it.

"Caspar.... You won't get a wink of sleep in that. You know I know this from personal experience."

"Well, where-"

"Come here."

Linhardt had already scooted over during his friend's antics and lifted the covers closest to Caspar. They stared at each other for a moment, tired frustration eventually beating out nervous stubbornness. 

"Fine."

And so, that is how they ended up laying on their backs, shoulders touching, staring at the ceiling. Ten minutes of silence passed, and Caspar inched his hand over to grasp Linhardt's. He figured he was asleep, but he didn't want to move his head to find out. 

"Promise me something,"

He was proven wrong by the soft voice that was now closer to his ear than expected. He looked over to see Linhardt's head tilted towards him. 

"What?"

"Don't die out there."

"You too, Lin."

"Mm....Okay."


	2. The Fall of Garreg Mach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard's attack on the church goes exactly as Byleth expects it to.
> 
> However, a slight deviation from the past casts a slight hiccup in her confidence....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back y'all. I have some art I made to accompany this chapter! It was SO MUCH FUN to draw! Agh! It is a little bloody though, so do be warned. Some of this chapter's text is far more gorey though. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Okay I have no clue how to attach images into the piece from my phone so... It will be picture-less until I get that figured out. I'm sorry! I'll update the piece when I get everything situated.

"Marianne?"

"Yes."

Caspar looked so distraught, Byleth had to force herself not to look away. It was rare this bundle of fire crackers would ever dampen to the point of legitimate fear and stress. 

"She may be able to use Physic, but that doesn't mean she can't advance through the battlefield. Eventually her range would fall short."

"Well, yeah! I know that, Linhardt knows Physic too-"

Byleth felt a flash of embarrassment from not realising sooner. She had been focusing on so many other things and juggling all of her memories and notes, that she had completely forgotten, during her hours last night of planning, that Caspar and Linhardt had a very obviously close bond. On paper, she saw that Caspar could defend the positions Marianne was to take, as she wanted the two of them setting up close to the fray so she could heal those on the front lines. On paper, Felix was a strong choice to accompany Linhardt in taking on the side filled with mages. His hexlock shield made him ideal for pushing through the enemies without taking too much damage in return. Linhardt had some of the best magic resistance at the moment. The two would storm through the hoards of mages, and what she knew would be Hubert at the end. Linhardt whittling him down for Felix to deal the blow that drives the enemy mage back was the cleanest way to cut through their defences. 

But she had never thought of having both Caspar and Linhardt on the field in this battle at the same time. She had plotted using one or the other in various locations... Maybe she had at one point had them fight together. Maybe they had excelled frighteningly well. 

She blinked, bringing herself back to the present. 

"Alright. You may accompany Linhardt on the right flank. Tell Felix to swap with you. Also, Caspar, be sure to pack two elixir kits."

The sudden change in mind was actually quite startling. Caspar didn't expect his Professor to simply agree with him so quickly. 

"O-okay! Thank you, Professor!!"

He decided to count his blessings and sprint off before she could change her mind. 

Byleth was amused when a few moments later she saw Felix storm over to her, confusion over riding most of his expression. 

"The hell was that??"

Byleth pondered the right words for a moment before settling for, "A misstep on my part. You're better suited to defend Marianne. I'll be sending Ingrid to you as backup."

Felix seemed absolutely consumed with confusion and annoyance. He knew very well how carefully his teacher thinks things over. He was, honestly, rattled by her admittance to a mistake so soon before a heavy battle. But she did not seem shaken at all, and even had the gall to smile gently towards him. 

So, he scoffed and stomped his way over to where Marianne was positioned towards the front of their lines. 

Once out of sight, Byleth's smile faded into her usual blank stare. The air felt very heavy. Heavier than she remembered. 

  
  
  


Linhardt was currently chiding Caspar for giving the Professor attitude, despite being relieved of not having to deal with Felix's prickly demeanor. Sure, he understood why the two of them would work well to take down the mages he could see, but they didn't have much synergy. 

"I didn't even really say anything!!! I just mentioned how both you and Marianne know Physic and that I know how it works!"

Linhardt sighed, a headache already starting to brew. Caspar was not the cause, but his yelling wasn't helping. 

"Alright. If I say I believe you and shut up, will you please do the same?"

Caspar grumbled about this and that, staring down at the forged steel gauntlets the Professor had given him. She had mentioned they were the sturdiest weapons in their entire arsenal- well, excluding some training gauntlets, but who counts those?- and urged him to wield them throughout the fight. He had never been quite sure why she had him focus on brawling so much when his upbringing had already given him so much practice with an axe. That is, until he heard rumors about a "War Monk" class. Being allowed to use his fists, gauntlets, axes AND still getting to heal when he had the opportunity? Busted. Still... He was a little unnerved by how certain she was in what he was capable of, but Linhardt passed it off as her natural knack for teaching. 

For once, Caspar wasn't so sure about his friend's theories. 

He jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Sorry to startle you, Caspar," He turned his head to see Ashe smiling at him, a wyvern landing by his side not a second later. How had he missed that? "I'll be accompanying you two. The Professor assigned me to aid you."

Before Caspar could even think, he had blurted out, "Me?!" with a look of sheer confusion on his face. 

Ashe tried not to look a little hurt. It obviously didn't work, as hiding his emotions rarely did. Caspar corrected himself quickly, "Why me and not Linhardt?? Isn't the point of this group to protect Linhardt??"

Said mage scoffed at the notion, but did not deny it. He knew Caspar was assigned to protect him as he healed his friends. He had also been told to take on the lead mage at the other end of the battlefield. As long as he didn't have to slash anyone up, he could stomach the fighting long enough. 

"I-I don't know. I was doing what she told me to do..."

The shadow across Ashe's face pained both of the boys by him. Caspar pinched his nose with two fingers, mentally scolding himself. 

"I'm sorry, Ashe. I didn't mean to mean it like that. It isn't anything personal against you! Doesn't matter who was asked to back me up. I'd just rather them watch out for Lin. But..."

He nudged the archer with his elbow in an attempt to cheer him up, "if it had to be anyone stuck with us, I'm glad it's you!"

This seemed to brighten the boy's expression a little, and he even managed a small smile. 

"Thanks, Caspar."

Linhardt felt bad for the poor guy. Then again, they were all pretty unfortunate at the moment, huh.

"I appreciate you trying to make this lovely ordeal easier on me like that, but I feel like if I don't try at least a little in this fight it very well may be our last."

The snark in his voice was overshadowed by his faintly grim expression. Linhardt rarely showed his worries in public, but considering their circumstances, it was obviously genuine. 

Ashe shook off his last clouds of doubt and mounted his wyvern. He hauled his iron bow off his back and ensured the hand axe on his waist would stay put. 

"Well, to be fair, I think that is true for all of us, Linhardt." A hint of a joke could be found somewhere in there, but neither of his companions could really take it to heart at the moment. 

Their plan sounded simple at first, even if a bit reckless. There would be three main groups:

Byleth, Petra, Claude and Yuri would storm through the middle, all capable of dodging arrows better than anyone else in their rag tag army. Yuri, albeit begrudgingly, donning his dancing garb, was especially slippery with his sword. Claude had surprisingly good defense, as well as a passable ability to dodge things he can see coming from a distance, like arrows. He was quick on his feet, but the hefty Longbow the Professor had gifted him was proving to slow his movements down a bit. Petra was assigned as Claude's backup, and Byleth was uncannily hard to hit while she had white magic equipped. They would be taking out ballistas the enemy had already seized in order to make the battlefield safer for fliers like Ashe and Ingrid. 

The second group was positioned on the left flank. They were to traverse the forest and take on the Death Knight. That group consisted of Sylvain and Lysithea. They were set up with likely the easiest fight despite taking on the strongest enemy on the field. With Lysithea wielding powerful dark magic like Luna and Sylvain bearing the Lance of Ruin and Knightkneeler, the Professor expressed no concerns on the two's triumph. 

The final main group was Caspar and Linhardt, with Ashe tagging along with Caspar. The three were tasked with taking on the right flank. 

Felix, Ingrid and Marianne were to shadow Byleth's squad and heal whoever needed it. After awakening Felix to his talent with reason magic, Byleth pushed him to study faith as well. He had yet to learn any healing magic, but the foundations told of the Professor's hopes for him. 

He was not the only one that had been nudged onto a different path than expected. Caspar was also asked to study faith with Linhardt, Ashe was riding a wyvern and Marianne had been trained a little too well with sword for it to just be a last resort. There were others, such as Sylvain and Ingrid focusing heavily on magic and Annette being asked to train with gauntlets. 

Some of it made sense, some absolutely did not. 

But her students trusted her judgement. 

Ashe lifted up into the air as a deafening war cry erupted deep in the fray. They had been making final adjustments until now, the knights having been holding the defensive line long enough to give Byleth time to prepare them. But when Linhardt turned to see Byleth sprint down the stairs followed by her partners, he knew with a frown that their plan had been put into action. 

Caspar rushed ahead, eyes focused on a mage towering over a knight. He barrelled right into him and the white magic from Linhardt helped the knight to her feet. She grunted an apology and dashed off to the middle of the fray. Caspar swung an armored fist into the enemy's gut, effectively piercing him all the way through his abdomen. Once the mage had been slain, Caspar turned his attention to a triad of pegasus knights heading his way. Well, more specifically heading Linhardt's way. Said mage was actually donning mage gear and not priest robes. He wasn't sure why Byleth pushed him so hard to study reason so tirelessly over faith, until he used a single Excalibur spell to tear one of the pegasus riders out of the sky, a spell he had only barely scraped by learning in just the past couple of nights. 

He hates this feeling.

Caspar blocked a few hits turned to his friend with his gauntlets and countered with some lightning quick blows to the flier's waist and side, effectively tossing her from her pegasus and knocking her out. He decided killing her would not be necessary for the time being, as her pegasus had careened off into the sky to retreat. The last one was downed by a single arrow from Ashe through the flier's eye socket. Caspar tossed a grateful look to the wyvern rider, who only gave him a stony-faced nod in return. The trio continued through the archways and pressed past dark mage after dark mage. Each one seemed better equipped than the last, likely since they had seen less of the battle than those closer to the frontlines. 

That didn't stop Caspar and his talisman shield from blasting through them all. Linhardt healed when needed, and even had to use one of his physics on Byleth in the heat of the fray. Ashe was circling them from above, ensuring every enemy that attempted to sneak up on them was identified. He took down most of their pursuers, but once or twice found himself being aided by Linhardt with a wind spell here and there. Once Hubert was in sight, their pace quickened. 

He fired first, a Death spell curled around Caspar's edge of sight before it slammed into him. Talisman shield or not, it was a brutal blow, and he was knocked clean off of his feet from it. Despite the resistance training Byleth focused into him, he was still sub-par in taking magical blows. Far less suited than Felix, anyways. 

But he struggled his way to his feet just as Linhardt closed in enough to cast a Bolganonne around the other mage's defensive stance. He was shocked with how well Hubert took it, but the damage was evident in the faint way he scowled. Caspar took that small window of time to down an elixir before charging forward to attempt to land a blow- right into a throbbing Miasma spell. The situation would have taken a turn for the worst had Linhardt not stepped in to body block the incantation for him. Caspar would have scolded him if it wasn't the heat of battle and he knew Linhardt could easily roll the blow off like water on silk. 

So, Caspar side stepped Linhardt and leapt forward to slam a gauntlet satisfyingly into Hubert's side. The dark mage staggered back as distant healing began sewing up the wound. Just as soon as he had gained his footing and fought his breath back, another gauntlet blow grazed his arm. He had barely dodged it, but now he was forced into the defensive. Caspar rolled away from another Miasma spell, only to swipe a glance on Hubert's leg. Ashe landed an arrow into their old classmate's shin from a ways above them. He wasn't trying to kill- just send him a warning shot. The message was received, and only after the dark mage was scorched by another Bolgannone did he admit defeat and retreat. Linhardt had been told this would happen, and he urged Caspar to leave it and press on. Of course, this did not stop Caspar from huffing from frustration. He had hoped they could capture Hubert and get some answers out of him, but the slippery weasel apparently knows how to teleport. So not cool.

How did Byleth seem to know the enemy's every move? It was unsettling, but Linhardt knew when not to look a gifted pegasus in the mouth. 

Alas, questions can be asked later.

The three pressed on, crushing the remaining mages that peppered their path. They had taken a moment to heal Caspar and check on the others, but once they were confident in their position they moved on. The mages seemed a little shaken by the fact their squadron leader had ditched them, so cleaning up the right flank had proved an easier fight than Caspar had expected. Ashe had taken a blow from a distant ballista, but he shrugged it off as lucky that his mount was not the one to be pierced. Only when Linhardt had a moment to spare from keeping Caspar on his feet did he allow his friend to heal the oozing wound.

Caspar covered for them as they fell back a few paces, going toe to toe with a heavily armored knight atop a sturdy warhorse. He switched his weapons to his axe and focused on attacking the thin gaps between the armor so as to heighten the damage he could squeeze in. The enemy had a decently long lance, but that would only prove useful in the time they spent at a distance. Once Caspar managed to squirm past several onslaughts of jabs did the tide change. He heaved his arms up in a clean sweep upwards, successfully catching his foe's still outstretched hand in his attack. It did not hit flesh, but the sheer force of the impact caused the other to lose their grip. His silver lance flung through the air and clattered to the stone walkways several yards away uselessly. In the rattled state of his opponent, Caspar shifted his weight to bring out a full forced attack into the front of the knight- just behind his steed's head. It did not knock him backwards off the saddle, but this proved to actually be a boon for the young boy. His axe sliced through armor and nestled deep into the enemy's lower belly, drawing out a strangled cry of agony. Once he had a clear grip on his axe embedded into the knight, he raised a leg and kicked his whole weight off of the frantic horse's flank, successfully yanking the imperial troop off his mount and to the ground. 

Caspar hauled his axe free of its bloody sheath and stomped a foot onto the knight's upper back. He was glad his foe landed on his stomach- less of an eyesore for Linhardt. He quickly brought down his axe across the man's neck and ended the misery he had inflicted. 

The rush of combat seeped out of him for a moment, a twist wrenching his gut with a mixture of pity and guilt. 

The armor didn't do much to cover the bones now laid bare to the world, as well as the seemingly endless pool of blood coating the ground around his feet. 

He hefted his axe back up and attached it to his side once more, running his arm over the blunt edge of the blade to try and smear the excess gore from it. He winced as a glob of something clung to his elbow. 

Luckily, that was the last enemy on their flank, so he had the luxury to retrieve his gauntlets and messily clean them as well. He tried not to think too much about the carnage he just created, but the sounds of his dear friend nearby obviously struggling with the scene made it a little hard to feign ignorance. 

He felt bad for doing that in front of Lin, but when it was between him doing it or making Linhardt take on the foe himself, he'd gladly accept that blood on his hands. Sure, Linhardt could have felled him with a flick of his wrist, but he doesn't _like_ to. 

Not that Caspar finds any joy in cold murder either. 

Ashe glanced about warily, hoping dearly that the left flank had gone near as smoothly. The archer did his best not to look at the clumps of bodies around them, most of which were Caspar's doing. As much as he hated seeing life leave the face of a living creature, he forced himself to take solace in the fact Caspar pointedly avoided harming the warhorse of the knight he just slaughtered. Said steed was now galloping far off behind them to the monastery, but none of the three cared enough to chase it down.

He hadn't heard any news on the other groups' progress, but, as the saying goes, 'no news is good news'.

"Should we regroup with the Professor?"

Caspar rolled his shoulder, the new gash from Hubert's Death spell already healing nicely thanks to Linhardt. He had just finished cleaning off his gauntlets with a handful of grass when Ashe called for his attention. He glanced over to him and shrugged.

"I would like to, but the Professor didn't really tell me about that. Linhardt would know..."

Said mage was bent over, hands on his knees. Caspar scooted closer so he could rub his back, trying his best not to let his increasing guilt show. He pulled the other boy's hair from the left side of his face closest to him and averted his eyes as Linhardt finally managed to choke things up. Caspar desperately tried to not think about how his friend sounded eerily similar to the final gurgles his foe had made at his feet. 

He had to keep his head in the game enough for the both of them.

Ashe shifted in his saddle, his vantage point not telling him much more than what his friends knew. All things considered, he felt it was a boon _and_ a bane. 

"I'm... Going to at least see if the Professor is okay."

Linhardt reluctantly straightened up just as Ashe ascended. He muttered something that was probably meant to be a thank-you to Caspar as he wiped his mouth clean. Caspar released hold on his hair, but did not stop rubbing his back. He shoved his earlier concerns out of his mind to instead focus on his soothing minstrations to Linhardt. 

"So... What do we do now? Did the Professor tell you if we should regroup with them?"

Luckily, the mage did not find any reason to linger on the subject and was eager to change the subject. Linhardt blearily shook his head, his discomfort still very apparent. 

"She... Said to keep our distance. Heal from afar. Cut off reinforcements. As you do."

Ashe's wyvern landed with a powerful thump, and off leapt the archer previously perched on its spine. 

"I saw Sylvain and Lysithea already regroup with the Professor. That can only mean they succeeded in driving off the Death Knight! Everyone is okay as far as I could tell. They have Edelgard all but cornered," he turned his gaze to Linhardt, "but do we join them?"

Linhardt shook his head. He didn't feel like repeating himself, and Caspar already knew this, so the brawler picked up for his friend. 

"Nah. The Professor told Lin to stay put and watch out for reinforcements 'n stuff. I dunno why she wouldn't want us over there with her, but I feel I got my fair share of fighting in." Caspar let off some of his post battle steam with a half hearted laugh and first pump. Linhardt, on the other hand, glared feebly at him. 

"I can't help but hope that satiated you. But... I too am glad we have done our part."

Ashe was about to grin his relief when horns began to sound at deafening levels from above. The three tensed and the archer mounted his ride once again to check out the commotion. He need not even leave the ground to see the massive shadow of some kind of beast soar over the battlefield. Ashe lifted off to circle above them for a few moments and gauge the danger level with the new development. Those weren't war horns. That was the cry of a gargantuan dragon. One that seemed dead set on tearing apart their enemies. 

Well, an enemy of my enemy is a friend, as they always say. 

Caspar decided now was a good time to find his voice. 

"Uh. Is that a problem?"

Ashe landed once again, his eyes alight with terror. 

"We have to go. Now."

"Why?"

Linhardt and Caspar asked in unison with differing levels of panic. 

"Get on. I can get us far enough to safety."

Caspar had almost every part of his mind dead set on asking why it was they were retreating when their victory had been so sound, but the view of Linhardt quickly following orders and hefting himself onto the wyvern quelled all of the voices in his head but the one in charge of his panic. 

So up the side of the beast he went and into the sky they flew. He was barely hanging on to the saddle, despite Ashe having moved off of it entirely to rest at the base of his mount's neck. Linhardt and Caspar shared the saddle. As they fled the scene, a million things ran through his head. What had Ashe seen? He was scared to find out for fear of their friends, but after steeling himself Caspar chanced a look over his shoulder. Demonic beasts had cornered the dragon. He saw the Professor trying to protect it. Then she was tossed off the mountain to her certain doom. The imperial forces climbing the mountain were near inumerable. So much red...

He whipped his head around, tears having found their homes in his eyes at the shell shocking sight. 

[This can't be happening.](https://twitter.com/snowdnnesketch/status/1244684084116406272?s=19)

The only sound that accompanied them this high up was that of the beating wings. Luckily, neither of his companions would later admit to hearing him sniffle now and again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope to add even more art pieces into the coming chapters. It's a fun exercise for myself and it fleshes out my stories better, in my opinion. 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments, if you feel like it! I'll respond as best I can to critique and advice. Thanks ahead of time!
> 
> Edit: Until I figure out how to add media to the fic I'll have to settle for linking it to where I posted it on twitter. Sorry for the inconvenience everyone!


	3. Reunion At Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys remember the promise they made the eve before the ball.

Ashe tucked his hair behind his ear for the second time in the last minute. He was hunched over a map in his lap, squinting his eyes. He had been for a while, so the angle his head was in encouraged his hair to fall into his field of view. 

"Perhaps you should try using a hairtie."

He cast a playful glare to his left where Linhardt was lounging. The mage- now warlock- was leaning against the oak towering behind them, eyes closed. He had his right leg touching Ashe's left, which is likely how he felt Ashe's clock-work like movements of fixing his bangs. 

"We only have one of those, and you always hog it."

Linhardt snorted, " _Hog_ it is such a strong word, especially when I _own_ it."

Both chuckled a little at their antics. They had grown very close over the years. Sure, Caspar had started out being their common interest, but ever since they fled the monastery on the day the church fell, they had decided it best to stick together and wait things out. 

Heavy footsteps clambered up the gentle hill they were perched on. Caspar, arms full of shopping bags, came into view and plopped down his quarry once close enough. 

"I got everything on the list! Well, I couldn't manage to spare a whetstone. I needed every last one for all of us to have what we needed."

Linhardt waved off his concern and pulled one of the bags closer to him by hooking his boot around the bottom. Once in arm's reach, he hauled it into his lap and opened his eyes to double check the contents. 

Some board games, stuffed plushes, boxes of tea bags, and pristine handkerchiefs.

"You didn't forget the hunting dagger?"

"Nope. It's in this one."

"Statuette?"

"Right here."

"Smoked meat?"

"Sadly in this bag, and not my stomach."

Ashe huffed in amusement, rolling up his map as the two listed off all of the things Caspar had gotten. They had spent every last drop of gold they had for all of these things. It was his idea, and while Linhardt was initially reluctant, he ended up making the list of all of the goods. Caspar offered to shop for them. 

"That should be everything. If we come across some monsters on the way, we can just substitute those whetstones instead. I'm sure they'll be far more appreciated," Linhardt stifled a yawn and pushed the shopping bag away from his legs. 

Caspar got to work puzzle fitting all of the things into the saddle bag attached to Ashe's wyvern. He wasn't doing a very good job, so Linhardt took it upon himself to do it for him. It would be a huge pain if something fell out of the bag while they were airborne after all.

While the two fussed over their haul, Ashe turned his attention to the mountain crouching not too far away from them. Atop it was the monastery they had called home nearly five years ago. They were making their way back to it after all this time avoiding the front lines of the war. 

A promise remembered. 

"Yo, Ashe! We're ready to go!"

He turned his attention back to his friends, who had miraculously managed to snap the saddle bags shut despite nearly bursting at the seams. He gave himself a moment to be impressed with Lin's space management. Then again, there wasn't much Linhardt couldn't do when he actually tried. 

"Alright, I'm coming."

He unscrewed the canister at his waist and pushed his map into it, easing the lid back on just as he instinctively looped his foot into the stirrup. He didn't remember mounting his steed, but then again it was so second nature he figured he had no reason to have to. 

Linhardt used a bit of wind magic to save himself the trouble of clambering, settling himself in front of Ashe on the wyvern's neck base. As awkward as it was, the loyal creature never complained. (Even if it could.)

Caspar took the second half of the saddle behind Ashe. Despite having all grown considerably from the first time they had to share the ride, they still made it work. Caspar clasped his arms around Ashe's waist, and the archer secured Linhardt with a hand on his chest. His other hand pulled the reigns, and soon they were ascending into the sky. 

They never really talked when airborne, as it was typically a moot operation. The wind was loud and his mount's wing flapping was louder. Despite the gorgeous sunrise settling in the folds of the castle walls, Ashe spotted some smoke drifting up from within. 

"Looks like there's a fight."

He knew his friends could not understand him, but it was enough to call their attention to the smouldering air a ways off. One of Caspar's hands left his waist to double check his axe. 

Of course they would aid. Whether it be bandits attacking villagers or it be the hope they had clung to all this time. 

Their friends. Now sucked back into a fight.

Oddly enough, Ashe found himself almost jittering with excitement. He knew a whole lot of pain could be awaiting them on the other side of those walls. News of friends being slaughtered in the conflict. The Professor truly being dead. 

But on the other side of that wall held perhaps one of the best moments of life he could think of. 

Reunion at dawn. 

As they soared over the walls, Ashe scanned every inch of ground he could see, his wyvern still on course to follow the smoke trails. It was when they rounded the cathedral that they were met with a sight so heart wrenching that it knocked the wind out of him. 

Leonie. Ignatz. Raphael. Lysithea. Marianne. Lorenz. Hilda. 

Claude. 

Byleth. 

They were all caught in struggles of their own, taking on a seemingly endless hoard of bandits. Upon a stairway nestled near the outskirts of the castle walls was the leader of the bandits. Ashe recognized him, but he decided to file that away for later. 

They were here. At least the Golden Deer were, but some of their friends had truly made it. He choked back a sob of relief and urged his mount to begin its descent. 

Caspar had let go of him entirely and opted to equipping his trusty forged steel gauntlets. Linhardt had already begun casting Physic spells from above. Their presence was not unnoticed, especially when Ashe managed to kill a brigand that had snuck up on Leonie. She must have said something, because one at a time at different intervals, their old friends cast a glance up to welcome them between trading blows. Byleth's gaze lingered, and Ashe found himself dumbstruck at the smile she wore on her usually placid face. 

He never felt his chest burn with so much affection before. 

["ALRIGHT!!!"](https://twitter.com/snowdnnesketch/status/1245110082423193601?s=19)

Caspar leapt off the wyvern as soon as he deemed it a safe distance to jump. He ended up with Lorenz and Ignatz, and instantly got to work helping them push back the thieves. Linhardt, much more gracefully of course, jumped down to aid Leonie and Hilda. The two physical attackers easily had all their bases covered, and Linhardt excelled in burning down stragglers that threatened their flanks. Ashe hurried his way over to where Marianne, Raphael and Lysithea struggled against several assassins. Speed was always one of his strong suits, so lodging two arrows into one of his foes came much easier to him than felling them with magic may have been for Marianne. 

Lysithea crushed a few of the ramparts separating them from their old classmates, and with the help of Raphael as a shield, pushed west to meet them. Ashe had spotted some chests to the south, and soon had Marianne accompany him to secure the goods. The fresh wave of reinforcements not only bolstered their forces, but also boosted everyone's morale. Ashe made quick work of the brigands guarding the chest, and tossed the cursed ashiya sword for Marianne to use. He ended up keeping Ukonvasara for himself. That proved to be a prudent decision when he ran out of arrows. They circled around west once they cleared the south east, and met Leonie and Linhardt at the south stairs leading to the main hideout. Leonie cast him a heartfelt grin, too out of breath to spare any words. Hilda had left the two to help Claude and Byleth push through the main throng of it. As they climbed the stairs, he checked his saddle bag. Still in tact. Good. 

A war cry erupted from the hideout, and not too long after, the doors opened to reveal the leader and a small envoy to defend him. He obviously wasn't planning on an ambush in their escape route. Leonie and Ashe jumped to action. The airborne fighter swung down and carried one of thr thieves up into the air, leaving the second one behind him exposed to Leonie's swift strikes. She had just slammed one of the last body guards into the ground when an archer landed an arrow into her shoulder. White magic instantly pushed the projectile out and sealed the wound. She shot a grateful look over her shoulder to whatever healer was behind her and dealt retribution in the form of a sweeping blow across the sniper's chest. Marianne aided from afar, and ended up landing the final strike on the leader. Pallardó, Ashe recalled. 

After the dust settled and everyone gathered together in the old hideout, cheers erupted between them. Raphael was swinging Lysithea around in a bear hug, Hilda was nearly crying into Byleth's shoulder, and Lorenz looked entirely worn out from the fight. Still, not a single person- not even the Professor- was void of a heartfelt smile. 

Ashe wasn't sure he could get happier than he was in this moment. It must have shown, because Marianne approached him and took his hand in hers. He noticed her obvious change in aura, and couldn't help a strangled chuckle from escaping his tight throat. 

"I'm glad you're alive, Ashe. After what we heard of everything..."

She shook off the thought and let her gentle smile overtake her visage once more. 

"It is good to see you again."

Ashe was proven wrong time after time as the morning bloomed and more friends appeared. Bernie was sobbing into his shoulder for a while, only after having broken down and been put back together by her old black eagle classmates. Caspar and Linhardt were ecstatic to see she had survived everything. 

Before long he had been hugged by more people than he had in his whole life. Mercedes was shaking in his hold, and Annette wasn't much better off. Something was nagging him, but he didn't spare enough thought on the subject to pursue it mentally. Felix had actually smiled at him. He wasn't sure how much more he could take when Ingrid pressed a tearful kiss to his forehead. It was when Sylvain held him, silent but obviously relieved, did he break down and let his tears spill out. He was so happy to see them again. Sylvain, despite the red head's best efforts, had grown on Ashe considerably during their school days. He felt, out of most of his currently present old classmates, he had missed him the most. 

He had caught a glimpse of Caspar grinning through his tears and red cheeks as he gripped Dorothea's hand. Linhardt, not too far away, was fussing over Ferdinand and Petra in an almost uncharacteristic way. But Ashe knew him better after all of this time. He may hate blood and fighting, but he truly loved his friends. 

When the waves of joy settled in his chest and his mind peeked through the cloud of relief, a few things began to bother him. And not just the sharp edges of Sylvain's armor. 

He pulled away, his eyebrows furrowed gently. 

"Sylvain, I nearly got the impression that everyone thought I was dead. Sure, I had my fears about all of you, but I never had concrete evidence one way or another."

Sylvain, almost too tenderly to seem in character, pushed some of Ashe's hair behind his ear. 

"Well, considering you three had disappeared from the battlefield without a trace just like the Professor did... We could only assume the worst."

Ashe knew they had been abrupt in their retreat, but he didn't realise they must have fled long before anyone else thought to check on everyone. He felt a twinge of guilt for everyone's concern. 

"Ah. Sorry… When the Adrestian army began swarming the castle walls I felt the best course of action in that moment was to retreat. I thought everyone else would have done the same after seeing that… Not to mention the professor being tossed off the cliff like that."

It was now Sylvain's turn to look utterly confused. 

"What? I never saw what happened to her. I just saw the hoards of Imperial troops and decided to bolt. I thought I had made sure to check on everyone beforehand but, after meeting with some people over the years, none of them mentioned seeing you three. We kinda... Made assumptions of the worst," he shook the thought away and fully pulled from Ashe's hold, "anyway, you saw what happened to her? What was it?"

Ashe pursed his lips as he tried to recall it. Well, recall Caspar's recollection. 

"Actually, Caspar was the only one that saw it... But he said he saw the Professor being attacked by some shady characters while helping that big dragon thing, and soon she was sent off the side of the mountain by some form of magic."

This didn't really ease the cavalier's nerves, but it at least sated his curiosity. 

"Huh... I guess that would explain why no one could find her body."

Their conversation was soon joined by theirs truly, accompanied by Claude. 

The Professor looked between the two thoughtfully. 

"So...you saw it?"

Ashe shook his head and recounted what Caspar told him, once again stating it was not him that actually physically witnessed it. Claude hummed in thought, a hand on his hip. 

"Well, it makes...sense? Kinda? Not really, but it'll do for now. Glad to see you all are alive after all of that."

His pondering look transformed into that of one of his signature smiles. Ashe noticed, with a wave of comfort, that Claude did not have this one guarded like most of his others. 

"You too. Claude, Professor. I...I don't know what we would have done if you two hadn't shown up."

Sylvain made a sound between a scoff and a laugh in mock indignation, "How cold, Ashe! You could'a at least waited for me to leave earshot!"

The archer nudged an elbow into his friend's side, his eyes positively glowing. 

"You know what I meant. If they hadn't found a way to get here, all of us would inevitably be doomed despite our best efforts to make it this far."

He turned his attention back to Claude, who had returned to one of his easy smiles. 

"By the way... Where is Dedue? Or Dimitri? I know they weren't exactly present for our promise, and you all weren't on the best terms with...them...but..." He trailed off from the hush that had fallen over the room. He had figured the Alliance would have allied themselves with the Kingdom at this point, given their common enemy. It seemed everyone had stopped talking in that instant, and that punched his joy out of him so fast he could feel the emptiness settle in him before fear gripped his heart. 

Sylvain wouldn't meet his eyes. Byleth was stoic as ever. Claude's smile had faded. 

"The boar is dead. Executed by the dukedom."

Felix's crude words were met by a half hearted protest from Ingrid, but the utter pain that must have settled itself on Ashe's face was enough to crush even Raphael's mood. 

"..He...what?"

Claude had looked at Byleth for something, and had ended up looking away even more troubled than before. He ignored it, and instead turned his attention to Sylvain. 

"But... Why? I... I hadn't...."

Where Dimitri goes, Dedue follows. Suddenly the morning of welcomes and laughter was crushed under a single revelation. 

Sylvain met his eyes for a moment, dodging his gaze every few seconds as he spoke. He was obviously upset at both the news and the fact that Ashe had his day ruined by said news. Everyone else had more or less been able to accept it at push forward. It's likely he did not want to relive that memory quite yet amidst what was supposed to be a good day.

"I didn't know you..didn't know. I didn't know _anyone_ could have not known. I'm sorry, Ashe."

  
  
  


Ashe excused himself. 

The sullen mood slowly healed back to a fraction of the joy it had once been before, though most of those from the kingdom did not have the heart to continue the somber jubilee. Sylvain had walked off, as he himself said, 'to clear his thoughts'. It was obvious he was going to check on Ashe. 

Claude had more pressing thoughts to entertain. He pulled Byleth aside and raked his piercing stare over her. Checking the shade of her skin. The glow in her eyes. The way her glasses sat on her nose. The Sword of the Creator. 

"Teach. You're hiding something from me."

Byleth allowed the scrutinizing gaze. She seemed to know it was coming. She always did. 

"I am."

Her blunt response caught Claude off guard, and it showed in his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. He had always prided himself in the close bond he had with his Professor, but to hear she was keeping things from him so easily... Hurt. Sure, he had things of his own he couldn't risk speaking in the air where ears always seemed to lurk. 

But it did not hurt any less. 

"... oh."

Byleth breathed in slowly, closing her eyes, and let the breath out just as sluggishly. 

"It is for everyone's good for now. You know of Sothis's power..."

She always left it at that. Divine Pulse this, reversing time that. Claude was sick of hearing the same response to all of his questions. 

"Yeah. I know. You say that all the time, Teach," he didn't mean his voice to be so cold, "and yet I can't bring myself to fully believe you anymore. I know you have good intentions... But apparently so does Edelgard. If you want me to trust you like I have been, I need a little more than a riddle to hold on to. Especially given the circumstances."

Byleth did not look surprised. And he knew she wasn't. She instead laid one of her gentle, smooth hands on his shoulder. 

"I will tell you all I know in when the time is right. It is dangerous. But vital. I know you can handle the information... But I must be painfully careful in how I disclose it."

Claude was about to thoughtlessly remind her that he was technically her leader and could force her to talk, but the words died in his mouth from the expression his Professor wore. 

She had expressed time and time again of how much she trusted him, and how she would fight tooth and nail to keep him alive throughout everything. At first he had been offput during their academy days. He didn't fully understand despite knowing deep in his heart of the oncoming war. 

He came to terms with things about a year after the fall of Garreg Mach. He believed for a while she had died at the monastery to protect him and the others. He was riddled with guilt for it. The only thing that kept him going was the hope a miracle could happen and pull his teacher- his dear friend- from the grave back to his side. And now here he was, being held by that very Professor, back in that same building, coming to those very same terms once again. She defied death itself to keep that promise. 

The least he could do was keep a little bit of faith set aside designated for her.

"... I'll hold ya to that."

He couldn't muster a wink at the moment, so instead he placed his hand over hers. 

The day was still so young, yet he felt it had lasted years. 

Maybe it had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm still trying to figure out the whole media thing, so I have to slip in another link to the piece to go with it. Thank you for your patience!


	4. Scales of the Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the early beginning of their lives at Garreg Mach, now nestled cozily abreast the looming threat of war.

Linhardt awoke to the hushed arguing of Ashe and Caspar in his room. He had recalled them all camping out here, the other two in a mess of their own pillows and blankets in some construction of a makeshift mattress. They had let him sleep easily enough, but sunlight was already trickling through the curtains. He groaned, more to get their attention than from annoyance, and rolled over to the edge so he could glare down at them. They had ceased their bickering to stare at him, each sporting a shameful blush. 

"Sorry."

Linhardt tried to fight back his smile, but their sheepish expressions and the disaster of blankets strewn about and wrapped around limbs was simply too endearing to ignore- and that's not even taking into account them parroting one another in their bashful shame. They were even wearing their daytime clothes, which means they got changed from their pyjamas just to crawl back under their blankets. 

_Cute_ , his traitorous mind offered. 

"The least you can do to apologize is get me some breakfast. A cinnamon bun will do nicely."

His stare and words were more pointed toward Caspar, but it was Ashe that stumbled to stand first, kicking at an especially clingy corner of the sheets. 

"How many? I was getting hungry, myself."

Caspar rolled around a bit in a futile attempt to free his legs from their prison, and instead opted to worm his way out from above. Linhardt didn't bother hiding his amusement over the struggle. 

"Mm. Two… Maybe even three. How hungry are you, Caspar?" A pointless question, really.

"Very!!! But I kinda wanted some beef."

Linhardt couldn't stop himself from firing back playfully, "You're always looking for beef, Caspar."

The giggle this elicited from Ashe was worth the effort of his crude attempt of comedy. Caspar huffed the jab away. 

"You know what I meant!! C'mon, Ashe."

They were halfway to the door when Linhardt tussled his rivalling emotions enough to settle on a decision of his morning fate.

"I would prefer it if I could go with you. Well, not myself. I'm much too tired to bother walking there."

Ashe would have made a snide comment on how he could always crawl, but the way Caspar lit up and flung himself over to Linhardt's side to pull him up was a little too endearing to spoil. 

Eh. No, it wasn't.

"You can always crawl to the dining hall. That way you won't have to use your feet!"

The glare Lin shot him was overshadowed by Caspar's boisterous laugh. He found himself relishing these moments all too carefully. 

After the news from about five nights ago, it was hard not to focus on cherishing the present. 

The trio made their way across the lawn of the dorms, past the courtyard, and into the dining hall. Linhardt was placed on a bench while Caspar got in line to fetch their portions. The mage was never quite thankful enough that he sometimes falls asleep in his day clothes. Sure, his companions had changed at some point before he awoke, but he did not bother to, himself. 

Ashe kept him company at the table, though the two were not alone for long. Mercedes joined them after only a few short minutes, followed by Dorothea. Easy conversation flowed between the three. Linhardt mostly stayed out of it, but he did add in his own comments when necessary. Caspar placing a plate in front of him snapped him from his light lull of slumber. He thanked the brawler and got to work picking apart his food. 

The fact that the dining hall was so operational so soon after their return spoke multitudes for the effort the knights had put in upon Byleth's return. Alois and Seteth were especially helpful and eager, each for different yet sister reasons. Linhardt marvelled every now and again how close to normal things felt despite the war raging around their island of tranquility. The knights were back, Claude was back, Byleth was alive, they held training sessions regularly,heck, they even had plans to follow schedules for the routine holidays.

The familiar pattern was oddly comforting. 

Ashe pulled him back to reality with a gentle touch on the hand. 

"Everything okay, Linhardt?"

He nodded dismissively and gracelessly shoved too much pastry into his mouth to avoid having to explain himself. He was lucky the attention was pulled off of him when Sylvain joined the table and snatched Ashe's gaze away. He was just about ready to settle back into his brewing thoughts, but of course Caspar had to place a hand on his knee, silently demanding his attention. When he tilted his head to peer over, he was met with a faint eyebrow furrow and frown. He started shaking his head 'no' to shoo the conversation once again, but the other's grip tightened on his knee. 

How bothersome. 

"I'm just…" he said after swallowing the admittedly ridiculous portion of sweets, "feeling a bit of melancholy at the moment is all," he assured his blue haired companion, his eyes returning to his plate. Did he seriously not even touch the eggs yet? Nor the second cinnamon bun on a napkin to the side? Utterly criminal. 

"Yeah. I get that."

Caspar, by some miracle from some entity, did not push the matter further. 

Only when he had forced himself to eat as much as he comfortably could did he decide to stand. He easily pawned his leftovers onto his shorter friend and left the group to their conversation and remaining morsels. Linhardt sought out the library. 

Well... Not _the_ library...

But another one he was far more fond of. 

He had only been given permission to visit since the return to the monastery. Seeing as Abyss had been so wary with the church in full force above them during his academy days, he never had the permission nor chance to slither his way into the ancient sewers. But with Byleth, an obvious supporter of Abyss, in charge of Garreg Mach, they found it easier to let her more trusted allies down to explore. 

Linhardt was likely the most eager of anyone out there to venture through the old ruins. 

Only mere minutes after arriving in Abyss was he already sitting against a book shelf, a book in his lap and a gentle Fire spell hovering around his head to cast light. The book detailed some journal entries of an unnamed author, depicting a ritual regarding a chalice. It was very vague and all of the juicy details seemed to be conveniently erased, but he could tip toe through the remnants and piece things together. Exhilarating but forbidden. Perhaps, exhilarating _because_ forbidden. A topic for another day, regrettably, since he heard some footsteps approaching him to cease his studies. He looked up, surprised to see Balthus. They had exchanged greetings on the night of the reunion, but those were about as much as they ever spoke to one another. He usually preferred Hapi's presence if he had to choose one of the old Ashen Wolves. 

"Heya Pal. Readin' 'bout the chalice?"

Now that was quite interesting. Sure, he knew from experience to not be too surprised by the dwellers here in the catacombs, but Balthus had always appeared so straight forward. If he had knowledge about this particular fling Linhardt was engrossed in for the next ten minutes, he would be all ears. He bookmarked his page and rested the closed book in his lap, all the while never breaking eye contact. 

"Yes. In fact, I am. What do you know about it?"

Balthus shrugged, leaning against one of the wooden pillars supporting the second story of the library. It creaked. 

"Not much more than that book does. Yuri mentioned somethin' about how it is older than time itself, but that's about it. He did say he doubted it was older than all of the relics, though."

Surprisingly insightful information from a man of his stature, he thought once again. Does he never learn, or is this burly beef cake just that easy to underestimate intellectually? Linhardt filed it away for later and brushed the dust off of his pants. 

"Well, you were quite a bit more helpful than I imagined you'd be, all things considered. Thank you for the hint, however vague it was." He paused, a stir pushing him to prod further. 

"....Never mind."

It was weird how malleable Balthus was being in conversation, but Linhardt decided he would- this time- cautiously accept the blessing shoved in front of his face. Explaining his ebb and flow of interest was always such a hassle. He stood and stretched to place the book back in its rightful place. He almost had it, but Balthus helped the final few inches by easily pushing the middle of the spine until it was home. 

Linhardt brushed his hair off of his shoulder and hummed his gratitude for the help. It wasn't every day someone helped him with a height related issue. Then again, it wasn't every day he _had_ a height related issue, either. He was just about to turn and leave when Balthus cleared his throat and scratched his neck below his dark mullet. 

"Uh... I hate to ask a friend like this so soon after breakin' the ice but...."

Linhardt already knew he didn't like where this was going. Blessings never come without guidelines after all.

"... Ya got any spare cash I could borrow?"

Linhardt raised his eyebrows in surprise at the... well... surprisingly innocent question. Sure, asking for money isn't really cool no matter what corner of Fódlan you're from, but he has heard worse things to ask of less acquainted people from other people. Namely Sylvain. 

"Money? Hah."

Linhardt waved a hand in front of him as a small smile graced his lips. 

"We spent the last coin we had on gifts for everyone before coming here. I may have been a noble, but considering the state of affairs, it is reasonable to conclude I no longer am one."

Balthus sighed and shrugged it off a lot easier than Linhardt expected him to. 

"Alright, alright. I believe ya, but only 'cuz I saw Hapi earlier with a new pouch of river rocks. 'Said it was from you guys. She was pretty stoked for it."

So, she had enjoyed the gift. She seemed off-put when they originally gave it to her, but that was likely only due to surprise of receiving a gift out of the blue. 

"That's cool," he paused a moment, "goodbye."

And off he walked, straight to the exit. He heard warm chuckling from the library in his retreat from a man he wasn't sure he wanted to figure out for a while. It all sounded like a headache to him. 

  
  
  


Caspar and Felix finally settled on one of the steps for a breather. They'd called a truce about three hours into their training session. Given neither of their usual reminders had paid them a visit to get them to rest, they lost track of time and likely overworked themselves. Caspar was flopped onto his back while panting. 

"Man, I missed training with ya, Felix! Glad to know you've only gotten better over these years!"

"Likewise."

The two had an amiable enough of a relationship. They respected each other in combat, despite their hot and cold personalities. They were the only matches they had when it came to training endurance and dedication, and they recognized that in one another. Caspar unknowingly found himself on the receiving end of most of Felix's good graces that could be bothered to be spared per day. That is not to say they hung out outside of the training grounds, though. Felix could get annoyed by Caspar if he talked too much, and Caspar could get irritated with Felix's frequent cold shoulder. 

So, when Caspar offered his spare water canteen to Felix out of habit, he was surprised when the other accepted it and guzzled it down like his life depended on it. He must have been pretty thirsty to do that, Caspar thought.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while as their bodies cooled off and muscles started to recover. Longer than Caspar usually did. So, when the doors to the training grounds opened, both startled a little from their dazed train of thoughts. Their visitor was the Professor, followed by Claude and Ignatz. Caspar gave them a lazy wave without moving his arm from the stone floor. Ignatz waved back as his company began gearing up for some archery practice. Felix took that as his indicator to leave, so he did. Caspar laid in silence for a few more minutes. When the 'thump's and 'thwunk's of arrows began a steady pace, he gathered himself and sauntered out of the clearing. He found himself in the sauna not much longer. Ferdinand was already in, and judging by the flush covering his body, he had been in there for a while already. Caspar tossed a greeting to his friend and took a seat one seat below his and to the side. 

"Did you just come in from training, Caspar?"

"Yep! Felix and I may have gone a little too long, honestly."

Ferdinand snorted at the mere prospect of either of them 'training for too long'. 

"Those are tall words coming from you, friend! I remember back in the days of the academy that you stayed up all night one night training with a hay dummy! The scolding Linhardt and the Professor gave you was quite the sight to behold."

Caspar groaned. Everyone always blew that one out of proportion. Sure, he loved sounding like a true warrior with limitless energy, but that recounting of the tale makes him seem reckless to the point of idiocy. And yes. Linhardt did give him an earful or two. 

"I wasn't training all night! I trained for a while, napped a bit, then I kept going until morning."

He never understood that the full story wasn't any less incriminating. 

"Of course, of course. My mistake, friend!"

The tone of his voice said otherwise, but Caspar decided to ignore that. Besides, that's when Ferdinand got up and left the sauna with a warm farewell. Left to his thoughts, Caspar began pondering the fates of Hubert and Edelgard. Surely Edelgard was still alive. The war was still going on. But he remembered beating Hubert down pretty badly. A twinge of guilt hit his gut at the thought of causing his former classmate to succumb to death from his wounds. 

But only a twinge. 

Hubert always complained about him anyways. He said he was too loud and that would cause his allies to be startled in the heat of combat. If that were true none of them would be alive right now, huh?!

He can't help but feel Hubert never meant what he said in a venomous way. He did not say he was too loud and Hubert was annoyed with it, though he likely was. He said he was concerned about the safety of their allies in combat. That, when detached from the context, sounds very mother-hen-ny. He could never shake the feeling that for all of Hubert's efforts, the guy wasn't all that bad. Edelgard was very similar in that sense. She was strict with her classmates and scolded them when they acted out. She was very insistent on dogging Linhardt in particular. Linhardt complained about how she went on about his 'limitless potential' and how 'he was sleeping his life away when his intelligence could be used for such a higher purpose'. Just thinking in Edelgard's voice ghosted a headache in the back of his head. 

And yet, just like before, he couldn't bring himself to hate her. Not even for starting the war. She never acted with intentional evil at the forefront. Some of the church goers would disagree, since she was such a 'wicked girl' and all. But she wanted the best from her friends so they could benefit from the fruits of their labor. 

And also so _she_ could benefit from the fruits of their labor. Which leads to her way of thinking in a broad sense. 

She had her ideals, and she had a good part of her heart behind them. She wanted everyone to earn their place in the world, not be born into it. She made that clear even before declaring war. And while Caspar knew people like him would benefit from such a rule and order, he knew of some of his friends that may struggle with that. The order of things had the countries still _functional_ at least until now, right? Well, the Kingdom doesn't count. (Even if it very much so does.)

Okay. So maybe there was a _lot_ of flaws in the crest system. And sure, he had an inkling Claude was never fond of them either. But that doesn't change the fact that Edelgard started _literal war_ just to overthrow political policies and proceedings. 

Which…when he thinks about it…is the reason a lot of wars start.

_Whatever!!!_

Her _methods_ are where she fell short in Caspar's eyes. Foolishly, he caught himself wishing quite often of how he wanted to end this conflict without killing either of them. They were his classmates at one point after all. They expressed care for him, even if it was in the most unconventional ways known to mankind. They lived- more or less- together. Ate together. Protected each other against bandits. Helped one another with school and life. They were _friends_ , dammit. And friends don't kill friends. 

They had already lost Dimitri to this senseless violence. 

"Lord Bergliez. The sauna will be closing soon."

Caspar physically shook his thoughts from his head and meandered to the door to begin preparing to leave. Had it already grown that late? Judging by how lightheaded he felt and the heaviness in his shoulders, he figured he probably stayed in there for too long. That's what he gets for thinking. 

He cooled off on the steps leading up to the sauna, his shirt folded around his neck to catch the stray water droplets in his hair. The gentle breeze on his bare chest and back did wonders for parting the clouds that had suffocated his mind not even a minute ago. He really needs to keep track of time in there. 

In the safety of the outdoors, he let his mind wander off again. It was rare he let it do this, since it typically didn't have enough thoughts in there to last longer than ten minutes. But with the war and everyone's return and his blooming relationships with Ashe and Linhardt, he found it hard to resist the urge to let his brain waltz through his memories and thoughts. 

Thoughts of what could have been had he separated from Ashe and Linhardt crossed his mind. Would he have joined his father in the fight for the empire despite his promise to Linhardt? Would Linhardt even have survived without him out there? Actually, if he had Ashe with him, he probably would have made it. Caspar had ended up dragging all of the trouble their way in the end during those five years. Then….where would he be? Too many hypotheticals, he kept running circles in his head from them. 

His eyes focused just in time to catch Byleth, Claude and Ignatz leave the training grounds. They all looked pretty spent, but they all sported friendly smiles. Even the Professor. 

Was it odd to think the Professor was too happy these days? She deserves it, without a doubt, but it is just... uncanny. As if hearing his thoughts, his teacher caught his eye and motioned for him to join them. Caspar straightened up and bounced down the steps. The rush of wind against his chest reminded him of the location of his shirt, so he scrambled to pull the damp article of clothing on over his not-quite-dry shoulders. Ignatz had averted his eyes politely, but Claude remained unfazed. 

"You look pretty flushed despite how dry your hair is, Caspar. Did you stay in there for too long?"

How the heck did he know that from a single glance? He didn't feel all that flushed anymore, but when he crossed his eyes to look at his nose, he found it traitorously pink. Ignatz outright giggled at the sight. 

"Well- uh- maybe I did! So what!"

He planted his fists onto his hips as they walked, an indignant pout spread across his face. Claude always found a way to get under his skin in the most amicable ways. He was pretty sure Claude could do that to just about anyone. 

Sans Byleth, of course. 

Comfortable bickering fell over the group on their journey to the dining hall. Caspar noticed all of their hair was drying, but more so than it would have been from just sweat. They must have doused themselves with water to rid of most of the pesky oils. 

Once inside the building, they gathered some food and hunkered down to eat their fill. A few others passed their table and said their hellos, mostly the old Deer. Lysithea stopped by to steal one of Claude's berry scones, Raphael praised Ignatz on his hard work in the training grounds, and Seteth informed Byleth to meet him later in the consultation room. They had been sitting in silence for a while, mostly drinking whatever beverage they had requested to wash everything down. Byleth was shifting a little, which to her closer friends meant she was about to say something. Or was at least pondering what exactly to say. 

Claude prodded her on it, and she quickly took the chance to speak her thoughts. 

"I have plans to take the Great Bridge of Myrddin soon. We have enough troops, I feel comfortable defending the monastery and launching an attack at the same time."

Caspar would have voiced his doubts if Claude did not beat him to it. "Uh, Teach?

You feelin' okay? That... sounds very reckless. And not like you. Or me. And no, we don't have very many troops. Sure, we have a lot of our _classmates_ , but they-"

"We do. They will be enough."

Byleth was staring straight into Claude's eyes. Unwavering. Caspar was shocked to see that Claude was shifting uneasily under her piercing gaze. He still had one of his frequent masks of casuality on, but the strain in his eyes was undeniable. 

"T-Teach. We should talk about that in private, first. I dunno what's come over you lately, but..."

His eyes went downcast for a moment. He seemed to have had some epiphany, and up his eyes went again. They were firmer. Stronger. 

Colder. 

"I'm sure we will get it sorted out."

His signature distant, easy smile was back.

And Caspar absolutely hated it. Seeing basically 'mom and dad' silently fighting each other was not only nerve wracking but very demoralizing. Why were their leaders at odds right now, again? It seemed like a pretty big overreaction to a spitball idea from the Professor. But from the way Claude took it, it was almost like he was suspecting something...

Caspar shook it off, excused himself quietly, and made a beeline to drop off his dishes. He had just made it to the door before he noticed Ignatz was shadowing him closely. He likely was shaken by the exchange as well. It probably sent them both a message. 

Hopefully it was received. 

He held the door open for the somehow taller man, and followed through towards the pond. The moon was out now, and it reflected in the pond with nearly no disturbance outside of the occasional dragonfly that would skitter across the surface. 

On the slow walk to their dorms, Ignatz chanced a glance at Caspar. 

"You hated that too, right?"

Caspar nodded without even having to think about what he meant. 

"Yeah. I've never seen Claude so shaken. He didn't look _scared_ exactly, but I've never seen him so uncomfortable!"

For the sake of the conversation, he kept his exclamations down to a loud whisper. 

"Not even during our studies did the Claude show his emotions so outright like that. But," he paused his words and pushed his glasses up his nose, "at the same time, I suppose, the Professor never really gave him a reason to."

It was true. The Professor easily made the perfect decision in all aspects of life. She always knew exactly what to say to her students to cheer them up, she always knew what belonged to who when she found lost items scattered across the monastery, and she always knew exactly who to put where in battle, and with what weapon. 

The only instance he ever saw her falter was that night with the mix up between him and Felix. That thought clung to his brain like a wet hair to the cheek. 

"She was always so composed. It's...weird. The night the empire defeated the church, she had me assigned to Marianne instead of Linhardt. I didn't have to do much to convince her to reassign me. But the fact that she admitted it was a, and I quote, 'misstep', just.... I dunno. It rubbed me the wrong way then, still does now. Felix and I talked about it a little while we trained."

Ignatz turned that thought over in his mind a few times. It was troubling, and he had never heard it, but considering her recent behavior, he had no qualms believing it. 

"That is...odd. Maybe that is what Seteth was planning on talking to her about?"

"Hopefully."

They bade each other goodnight and headed to their respective dorms. Well, Ignatz went to his and Caspar went to Linhardt's. Ashe was already asleep in the pad on the floor, a bit of drool collected in the corner of his lips. Linhardt was reading in his bed. He looked up upon Caspar's return and put his book away in tandem to Caspar closing the door. They both made arrangements for bed, but Linhardt's stare proved he had noticed his friend's troubled mood. He would have pushed it, had Caspar not shook his head and pointed to Ashe. It was rare the archer fell asleep before everyone else, and neither man felt like ruining that. 

So, they went to bed.

  
  


That night, Caspar turned numerous times in his sleep. Voices echoed in his blank dreams, calling from memories he did not recall.

_"Do you realise Caspar, that this is the first time we ever fought?"_

_"Yeah, I think you're right.. The first, and probably the last."_

_"I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!!!!"_

_"I always knew... Losing meant death...."_

_"I hope someday there will be... n-no fighting and we can all just...nap the afternoon away..."_

_"Don't look at me that way. You'll throw off my aim."_

_"I tried... To do the right thing.... Lonato...."_

_"HEY! You didn't say it!!!"_

_"I knew this day would arrive. I just hoped it might take a bit longer...."_

_"Nothing can break this bond!!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter was mostly just set up for the following ones, as well as fleshing out some of the more minor characters in this specific fic. In this house we love all of the students!!!!


	5. Unease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar has some trouble coping with the changes in the professor. He seeks out some guidance.

Caspar was quiet during the war council the following day. Frighteningly so. He only spoke up when someone asked him something. This was considerately very infrequent, when taking into account his utterly _stellar_ talent with tactics. People probably took notice. He didn't care much. He had a lot on his mind. 

He had weird dreams last night. He heard words he has never said, echoing in the darkness. Words too...laced with emotion. He would have remembered them, one way or another. Words too specific to instances. 

He heard other people, too. They were distant, but he did. And their words and voices terrified him. They were familiar. Too familiar. 

They shook him to his core, and it took every ounce of self restraint he did not have to not tip off his roomates. He spent most of the day isolating himself to try and piece his brain together. 

So, when Dorothea approached him after the meeting with a concerned look, he wasn't all that surprised. 

And that is how he ended up in the gardens having tea with her. She had the apple blend, and he was staring into a cup of ginger tea. It had already cooled from hot to warm. 

"Is this about some _thing_ or some _one_?"

Caspar, of course without thinking, blurts out, "Both," and grumbles with frustration at his outburst. He set the cup down and crossed his arms over the table, laying his chin down to rest over his wrists. He glared at the tea cup that was now just barely below eye level. 

"I can't help you if you don't tell me anything, Caspar."

The statement, or perhaps question, hung in the air for a few moments. Caspar begrudgingly sighed. 

"It's.... about the Professor," This piqued her interest, though she did not interrupt, "Claude and a few of us have noticed she is really acting weird. And sure, she was supposedly asleep for five years, but... it's a little too much to just pass off. Y'know?"

He still didn't meet her gaze, too transfixed on the handle of his teacup. 

"An' I had a really... _bad_ dream last night. I haven't had one'a those since... Before the academy. Honestly."

Before he and Linhardt had become connected to the hip. The fact was there, but it remained unspoken. 

"I heard myself. I heard... Other people. Probably Linhardt. It was distant, but... it sounded like nothing we have ever said. Stuff we have never done." The fighting. "I.... It scared me pissless."

Normally Dorothea would laugh at the crude ending, but she knew how heavily this was weighing on him. And, truth be told, she understood it. The Byleth part, anyway. Her demeanor has changed. Her relationship with Claude is strained. The way she seems so open to bonding with her students, all the while still holding them at arm's length. 

It was just a doubt she had, but now that she has heard someone else voice it without her input, she knows it isn't just her overanalyzing. 

Caspar takes in a shuddery breath. 

"I was just so _happy_ when we all met up again. I was over the moon giving everyone their gifts. I had been the one to find that new set of ear rings just for you, Dorothea! I even made sure to buy that specific board game I remembered Claude liked. The one with the symbols on the round doohickies. He was so happy when I gave it to him!- surprised, sure, but happy. I didn't think I could feel any better than right then..."

Despite the sad smile that had formed on his face, his voice was cracking and eyes were watering. He sat up to try and ease the tension on his throat, but that did little to ease the soreness. 

"....and then I saw how he and Byleth interacted. How-how unpredictable she was. How... Emotionless she felt. When we heard about Dimitri. She didn't...she didn't even bat an eye, and Ashe had his heart just about _broken_ from the news. I felt awful and- well, she didn't look like she did. It..it's just-"

He was lucky his voice had given out due to the strain to keep his tears in. All of his shouting was transformed more into whisper screaming. 

Dorothea sat and watched as Caspar unfurled right in his chair, eyes now red and cheeks damp. She wanted to pull him into an embrace, but she knew that could soothe him into going quiet. And right now, he needed to let it all out.

"I just- I know this is war and you're not supposed to feel good at all, and people are dying and it is kinda your fault but also not your fault, and I know I'm being selfish for complaining about these stupid things when Dimitri and Dedue are dead and Ashe is torn up about it and Claude is under so much stress, and, but...."

He had to pause to catch his breath, chest shakily heaving in an attempt to not flat out break down. He didn't get much sleep last night, and he was always an emotional tired kinda guy. It wasn't very well known because of his surprisingly responsible sleep schedule. But here we are, sitting through Caspar struggling to keep himself together at four in the afternoon. Dorothea looked beyond pained, half for his sake and half because she would not comfort him at the moment. She knew he still had something weighing him down. It showed in the way his shoulders were tensed about his neck. 

"... I just..." He finally continued, rubbing an eye with the meat of his hand, "waited so long with Lin and Ashe. We hung around the Monastery all this time, keeping an eye on it. Hoping. Hell, even praying, that everyone would one day return there. And almost everyone did- I got my wish!... I don't deserve to be sad right now. But, it, it feels like there's something bigger just looming over us and, I just, I can't see it. I don't know what it _is_ or _when_ it's coming... And it all seems to link to the Professor and I hate it, because I feel I can't trust her anymore with anything. Monica... Tomas...." He shuddered, eyes screwed shut, "What if she ended up like them? And all of this is just one big trap? One big….well thought out...trap. And we are all falling for it because it's the Professor and we are supposed to follow her to the end of the world. We did follow her to the end of the world, y'know? Ain't that what war is?- And yet- I feel like every step we take with her is just bringing us closer to a big ole sword, ready to chop our necks off! That's _really_ the end, right??"

Dorothea stood from her chair and placed her hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing lines from top to bottom. She knelt down next to him and laid her head against his bicep. 

"I don't have the answers for you, Caspar. I'm sorry. This is all over my head, too.... But," she looked up towards him and waited for him to cast her a glance, "we are in this together. All of us. We can make it through... Even if the Professor is with them. We have Claude, Seteth, the knights- all of them. We have each other. And, I think, it will be enough. It has to be."

Her answer, while not very comforting, seemed to satisfy him. He swivelled in his chair and pulled her up into a hug. She reciprocated easily, and the two sat there for a while.

Dorothea pulled back, her thumb swiping one of his lingering tears away like a natural habit. 

"Big sis is here for you."

Caspar groaned and gently pushed her off him, a pink blush having settled over his cheeks. 

"Ugh, not this again."

A soft laughter filled the space between the two as Dorothea stood up once more. She found her seat again and resumed nursing her now cold tea. Caspar downed his with a sudden surge of energy, smacking it back down with almost enough force to break it.

"Thanks, Dorothea. I really needed that."

And while he still had puffy eyes and a runny nose and his cheeks were still stained, he had a blindingly pure grin on his lips. Dorothea waved a hand, eyes twinkling with affection. 

"Think nothing of it, Caspar. I'm always open to talk with you."

Caspar then leapt to his feet, circled around to squeeze her in one last hug, then bolted out of the garden, flinging a "See ya later!" over his shoulder as he left.

Leaving Dorothea to clean the mess. 

There are worse messes to clean up, she thought, as she gathered the tea kettle and piled everything onto the tray. Far worse messes. 

  
  


Caspar sought out Linhardt. He checked the library, the green house, the pond, the market, the stable- well, naming the places he hadn't checked would be easier. But by the time he rounded the corner of the training grounds, he knew where his friend was hidden away. Abyss. A place he was specifically told _not_ to venture to. Talking to Lin was out of the question, so instead he tried to seek out Claude. Funnily enough, he found him on the third try. He was in the Cardinal room, curiously alone. Claude looked up from his paper work upon Caspar's entry. Caspar's aid in that battle at dawn, coupled with the gift he had chosen and given to Claude, had easily warmed the two up to each other. 

Not to mention their sharing of a strained but strong belief that had only just sprang up. 

Caspar closed the door to the Cardinal room. 

"Hey. I... wanted to talk to you. Well, more specifically I wanted to talk to Linhardt about this first, but-"

"I hear ya. Come on over."

Claude pulled out the chair next to him at the far end of the table, on the side closest to the windows. Caspar hunkered down into it with a quiet thanks and scooted it back in. 

"It's about... Byleth, correct?"

Hearing her name being spoken, by Claude no less, aloud was...jarring. 

But he nodded anyway, mind not straying too far from its previous track for once.

"Yeah. I mulled over it some, and well... I wanted to ask if you dreamt about anything last night."

Claude's eyebrows shot up in surprise. His quill tilted in his slightly loosened grip. 

"Not...anything… out of the ordinary. Did you?"

Caspar nodded, fists clenching in his lap. For all of his struggle earlier, now that he had talked it out with Dorothea, he felt far more confident in his words. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. I heard myself talking. I mean, _I_ wasn't talking, it was like hearing a memory of when I said something. But with my ears. A-and it wasn't normal stuff or things I may have said and forgotten. They were, like, seriously specific things. One of them... I heard Linhardt talk back to me. It sounded like we were having to fight. I don't really remember the rest, but I remember distinctly that none of it sounded familiar, but at the same time..."

"Like it was too close to home," Claude provided, his full attention settled on his company. His quill rested in the ink jar. 

"Yeah."

Caspar nodded lamely. It sounded a little silly the second time through, but Claude looked like he was seriously considering his words. His eyebrows were furrowed. A rare sight, but the expression sadly suited him. Like he did it often. 

".... There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes here. And it isn't all just what is going on with Edelgard, or even the Professor. I'm kind of surprised you picked up on all that before Linhardt did."

Caspar shrugged, not taking what could have been an insult in any other circumstance to heart. 

"I doubt he had those dreams, too. That was the tipping point for me. I was there when she suggested splitting our troops. I saw how..." He decided not to finish that sentence, for Claude's sake. And usually it would be appreciated. But Claude wanted to be certain of something. What? Caspar wasn't sure. 

"It seriously spooked me. I thought I had her figured out. But she was showing signs of something, and that was the moment that confirmed all of my concerns. I honestly don't know who to talk to about all this."

A shadow fell across his face as he said this. [He looked exhausted.](https://twitter.com/snowdnnesketch/status/1245959077529821184?s=19) More than even a leader would be. Caspar didn't notice until now, but Claude had little blood vessels beating red in a line by his irises. Proof he had scarcely closed them to even blink all night last night. 

"I know I'm not all that smart or anything... But I'm not really dumb, either. Linhardt wouldn't let me get that bad after all these years. You can trust me to talk about things if ya wanna. I know it can help to get it off your chest."

In this sudden tender moment of fears being spoken and insecurities being offered up with doubting hands, he knew he had to reach a hand out to Claude. This was his leader, perhaps the only one he could trust in the coming war. And, to his surprise and relief, Claude accepted it.

"I think I will. I know maybe it isn't in my best interest to disclose things like this to someone originally from the Empire, but I've never been one to take place of birth into account when deciding how to treat others. That's why I'm trying my hardest to give Teach as long as she needs to get herself together. I can't imagine she is unaware of my suspicions by now. But, with hope, that just means she will come to her senses sooner."

His expression of defeat had evolved into one of firm determination. He was facing Caspar fully now, an arm lounged on the table and the other in his lap. 

"I _want_ to trust the Professor in her strategies, I do, but I gotta prepare for the worst case scenario, too. We should try keeping this hidden for now until she brings the subject up again."

Caspar, with a tinge of guilt, ducks his head a little. "I...talked to Dorothea before this. I needed her advice and kinda...vented to her. She knows how I think, but she told me she believed in me. In you." He paused a moment, "And I believe her."

Claude thumbed the thought just as he did his paper work, eyes distant for a moment. 

"That's fine. I'm sure Ignatz is suspicious as well, if his reaction during dinner was anything to go off of." Caspar nodded. "For now, keep quiet about it. You'll be the first to know if I make any leads, though I hope they will mostly be good ones proving our fears wrong."

Caspar was surprised at that last part. Him? The first to know? Like he was important? But the way Claude's eyebrows dipped and his eyes stared so deeply into his own, his heart settled down to peace. Neither one of them were their first choices, but in the end they may have been their only choices. And they'd run with what they had like their lives depended on it.

Once again, Caspar nodded. 

"You can count on me."

  
  
  


As Claude waved a final goodbye to Caspar, he settled back into his chair, mind swirling with endless thoughts. At first, he really dreaded sharing this secret with Caspar. Loud, obnoxious, loyal, protective Caspar. But the way he simply came to him with his heart on a platter and pleaded for even a shred of guidance... Not even Claude was heartless enough to ignore it. In the end, he felt he revealed more of himself than he should have. He seemed too vulnerable. That's what the voices in his mind told him, anyway. But considering how firm Caspar was in his agreements and how he drank up every word Claude told him- he knew he did not make a mistake. He had a newfound friend now, one he knew he could talk with about a subject he had feared would never fall past his lips. When his most trusted advisor is suddenly the cause of all this turmoil and betrayal, he thought he would never be able to recover. Never trust again. Even if he so desperately wanted to.

He was glad Caspar proved him wrong, and gave him a hope that at least one other would do the same. 

And he would be even happier for Byleth to prove him wrong. Maybe they were all going about this the wrong way. Maybe he was being too harsh on her. She _had_ just awoken from a five year long nap. Presumably. 

Despite the knowledge of this being a tricky field to navigate, one he could not misstep for even a moment, he felt at peace. The pillar that had been his teacher was taken so quickly out from under him, and he didn't even fall that far before another set of hands helped guide him along. And that's not counting the others that would no doubt follow him to the grave. 

He really was getting lucky lately, huh?


	6. The Professor's Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out for Byleth to sustain the trust of her students. She comes to terms with the fact that she must go all in this time.

Everyone was a little on edge. The war council just started again, and quite a few disputes were voiced. 

They are going through with Byleth's ridiculous plan. 

Claude had debated back and forth on which group he would lead. Lorenz played devil's advocate for either choice, and Hilda was at her wit's end. Byleth offered to lead the charge for the bridge coup early into the meeting, but Claude refused to make a decision until he could think it through some more. He bounced ideas off of everyone in the room. Petra brought up the obvious bonds spider-webbing between the old academy houses, and that perhaps each group should not be too mixed with the three. Ingrid countered that all three houses were heavy in one or another specific fighting style, and that their weaknesses could be exploited rather easily. Lysithea agreed with her, and offered to split one house to mingle into the other two. Ignatz made a point that the old Blue Lion house was pretty even with magic users and physical attackers, since most of them could work with both. He suggested they be the house split up and shuffled into the other two. Sylvain, surprisingly, had backed up the idea. He and Felix had been working with Ingrid on the magic skills Byleth asked them to focus on all those years ago. Ingrid was nearing the qualifications to become a Dark Flier, and would likely need only another week of study to get there. Sylvain then reminded Byleth and Claude that he was entrusted the March Ring, and as such could easily keep up with the others if he left his horse behind and took up a warlock equipment set. Of course, his growing confidence in the matter was scoffed at by Felix. He chided his inflated ego. Sylvain may understand reason, and he may know several spells, but his magic prowess isn't all that impressive. Felix wasn't much stronger in that regard, but he found it easier to land critical hits with black magic. Using electric based magic was a part of why that was so. 

Claude reigned the conversation back to the leadership of both groups. He wanted to ensure the leader could compliment the soldiers, so he suggested he lead the Golden Deer and Byleth handle the Black Eagles. Despite making this call, he admitted he still was not sure which group would go where. 

"Well, I for one, think the old Black Eagle house should take on the bridge!"

Caspar slapped his fist into his open palm, garnering the attention of both leaders. Linhardt cast a look at him from the chair beside him, but he eventually kept his gaze firmly locked on the Professor. 

"I mean, Dorothea learned Meteor not too long ago, and Linhardt can use Physic! And if we have Mercedes with us, we will have a Fortify user to keep everyone up an' in one piece, right?"

"Aren't those good reasons for the Black Eagles to stay _in_ the monastery?" Linhardt drawled next to him, a furrow in his brow. He was obviously offput by Caspar adding something to the conversation other than useless blather on rushing the enemy. 

"I think Caspar has a point."

Claude shifted his gaze down to the map he had sprawled across his part of the table, and nudged some metal cubes this way and that on it. 

"With the maps Lorenz secured for me, I think sending in a well-defended task force to take out the general controlling the fort would be our best call. They'll surrender if their leader is felled. Probably."

"Do we really have the time or resources for 'probably's??"

Leonie knocked a fist into the table.

"The whole splitting up thing is a bad idea to begin with!! Professor, we just don't have the soldiers to throw into both of these battles and still end up on top! All of us here can hold our own, but we can barely be called a squadron even as a whole group!! Claude, I don't understand why you're condoning this, or even entertaining the thought!"

"I understand Leonie. I do. But-"

"We are running out of time."

Byleth focused her blank stare on the red head, her hands still resting motionlessly in her lap. 

"The sooner we capture Gronder, the sooner we can end the war."

"Gronder??"

Several people had shouted in unison upon that statement. Claude tried his damndest to keep a cool composure, but he felt everything was flying out of his grasp far too quickly at this point. He leaned over closer to her, as she was seated at the end of the table and him directly to her right. 

"Teach. You... You can't just say stuff like that without warning or talking to me first. I don't know what has come over you since returning but... We can talk it out together."

Byleth cast him a concerned look. She, somehow, looked surprised at all the negative reactions directed at her statement. 

"Nothing has come over me. I just know what must be done for everything to turn out alright."

Claude decided that was enough. 

"Alright everyone. We are gonna take a breather. "

He stood up to emphasize his command, which was enough to get the message across for most. Bernadetta was the first to sprint through the doors out of the cardinal room, followed closely by Dorothea and Marianne. Ferdinand followed suit, casting a worried look to the front of the room over his shoulder as he retreated. 

The only people that stayed were Claude, Byleth, Caspar, and Ignatz. Linhardt was the last to leave alongside Hilda. Both were pretty apprehensive, but had tried to brave the tense air in the room for a few minutes. They ended up stepping out anyways. 

Claude was sitting in his chair again, hands folded under his chin. Byleth was reading through a book in her lap. She seemed unfazed by the stir she had caused. Caspar and Ignatz were standing near the door, muttering to one another. 

"It's only getting worse every time we have one of these meetings... I never thought the Professor could actually scare me, but here we are."

Ignatz shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah. I get the feeling. I bet Claude feels way in over his head..."

They turned their attention to the door as it opened again. It was much too soon for anyone to be returning for the meeting- it had only been a couple of minutes since it was put on pause. But in strode Ferdinand, shoulders set and eyebrows knit together. 

"Teacher."

Byleth looked up to the call and pulled her reading glasses off. 

"Yes?"

Ferdinand made his way across the room to stand beside Byleth's chair with his arms crossed. 

"Your tactics are usually so pristine that not even I can find ways to improve them! But lately you have...been giving everyone reason to worry. You recovered from 'sleeping' for five years so quickly. Are you sure there is no reason for you to get some more rest?"

That same expression of faint confusion settled on her face again from his words. 

"I feel fine, Ferdinand. Resting after sleeping for five years is a bit redundant, don't you think?"

"Well," The paladin pushed, one of his hands escaping its hold on his arm to rest on his hip, "perhaps it may be for everyone's best interest to indulge in redundancy for a spell. Suggesting we lead an attack on two fronts when our army is not even a month old? We lack the support from any noble house outside of Goneril and Riegan! It is a hopeless endeavor!"

"We have the support of Daphnel," she raised a hand as she spoke, as she often did out of habit, "I sent Judith an express messenger the moment I returned."

"You _what_?"

Claude looked up from his notes. His face was struggling to contain his emotions, though his frustrated shock was incapable of being muted so easily. 

"I asked her to distract the Gloucster troops near the imperial border long enough for us to slip through straight to the bridge. If we free Gloucster of imperial pressure, they will easily return to our round table." Her gaze shifted from Ferdinand to Claude in a casual rhythm, as if she had not just said something that was not only obscenely trusting of a current enemy, but also knowledgeable enough of said enemy that it had an actual basis of reality. Claude regarded her for a while. 

"What all do you know of Alliance relations?"

She lowered her hand down onto her book on the table, "I know enough."

Claude studied her. Really studied her. His calculating eyes scarcely had a moment to blink with the hurricane of thoughts ravaging his head. His gaze finally fell over her visible hand. For a moment, a sense of understanding crossed his eyes. "That's a journal," the sentence was not a question, but he spoke it like one.

Byleth slowly shifted her eyes to stare at the same book. She nodded her head silently. Whatever it was that passed between the two dispelled the energy in the room somewhat. He hefted a sigh. 

"Just when I thought I had you figured out..."

"I do not think I follow, Claude. Are you now siding with her suggestions?"

Ferdinand shrugged a hand Caspar had put onto his shoulder. He looked visibly upset. 

"She means for us to march with half of our forces and leave the other to defend the monastery! Only to capture Gronder?? A field in the middle of farmlands?? It isn't even a fortress or anything remotely close to a strategic location!"

Claude glanced between his teacher and Ferdinand. He had a mostly blank look on his face, his eyebrows drawn together a little. 

"Yeah. She does. And, while I would prefer to take things slowly and build up our forces in secret..." He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, fingers getting caught in his hair. "I know she has a good reason to make such a play."

Byleth opened her book a crack and fingered one of the pages in thought. Eyes distant. For a moment, Claude thought he caught a glimpse of grief somewhere in those voids. 

"If we don't secure that field.. Something terrible will happen. Something irreversible."

She paused for a moment. Her mind was so far away in that short second, as though lost within its own caves and crevices. 

"I fear I cannot trust even the air around us with such knowledge." her tone of voice was reminiscent of the one she had on the dawn of everyone's return. Her eyes flicked over to the three standing a few feet down the table. 

"Though... I have already weeded out all of the prying ears that snuck into our ranks."

"There were spies here already??"

Ignatz slapped a hand over his mouth a bit too late. He sheepishly backed up a few paces. "I... I'm sorry Professor."

"It is alright, Ignatz. And yes, we had double agents hidden in our troops. I made sure they would not be sending much of anything back to our enemies." She eased a little with her own words, as though she was saying them to reassure herself just as much as one of her fawns. "I have been painfully careful this far, but considering how on edge everyone is with me... I know keeping everything to myself could end up ruining things."

All four pairs of her company's eyes were settled on her. A little on edge, but for the most part morbidly curious. 

"I will tell everyone the full truth when we all assemble again. I did not wish to… and even now I am concerned about it. But…" she sighed, "Could you three please fetch everyone?"

She looked between each of the men that were still standing, eyebrows tipping upwards a bit to emphasize her plea. They all eventually nodded and retreated from the room, each with varying degrees of reluctancy. When the door closed she turned her attention to Claude by her side. 

"I will tell you the majority before the others come. Just to save face, if nothing else."

Claude wasn't sure if he should be feeling relieved or anxious right now. "Alright. I'm all ears."

The next few sentences that came out of her mouth would spell either doom or salvation for this army. Claude knew, no matter which way it went, it would be best for them all to get this knot brushed out of their plans so early on.

Byleth took a deep breath and opened her book, eyes skimming over it for a few moments. She was gathering her thoughts. 

"I am on my last leg. I have exhausted Sothis' divine power to push back the hands of time far longer than should be possible. I... Have seen all of the endings to this war. Lived them. Memorised every step that took me there. I've learned everything I could about everyone. I know all of their secrets, and in turn I bore mine before them before returning to the start all over again." Her eyes were clouded with the memories that were surely surging through her at the moment. Claude dared not say anything. He wasn't sure whether to believe her or not at the moment. But he had regrettably begun harboring hope in this conversation. "Every other route has led to someone dying. Dimitri. Edelgard. Rhea...." She turned her head away, face filled with unprecedented amounts of grief. "Even you. A time passed when Edelgard refused mercy. I was helpless to save you. To save everyone. Hilda fell. Dedue sacrificed his humanity. Seteth and Flayn found their eternal resting places on Monastery soil. Rhea, struck down by my hand more times than I can count. It almost ended there.... I was lucky Sothis took pity on me in my desperate time of need. I learned from my mistake, but it was never enough. She has been the only constant this entire journey. The only person that did not turn against me at some point. The only person I did not allow slip through my fingers." On instinct, she raised her hands before her and stared at them through salty clouds. Her eyelids were tinted pink. 

"I've fought... And fought... And betrayed... And protected.... And none of it mattered. Not... Not until now."

She closed her eyes. Streaks formed on her cheeks. 

"This is my last chance. I've prepared endlessly for it. I've written down everything I can fit into my notes. I've memorised every minute detail."

Claude met her gaze when she opened her eyes again. He was unreadable, but not out of a distance. 

"I just... I have to prevail this time. I must prevail this time. You were the one I could convince all of this the most. Dimitri would ignore me, and Edelgard would believe she could use my knowledge for her benefit. I've seen it. I-I know it."

One of her shaky hands found his on the table. Her skin was cold, even through his leather glove. 

"Even if I feel I can't trust anyone in the world.... I have no choice but to lay everything on the line. For you. For you to follow me, and understand." She looked from their joined hands and searched his chasm-like irises. 

"Can I ask that of you? After all of this?"

Claude tried putting off his response as long as possible. The hushed sounds of footsteps and murmurs making their way down the hall spurred him on, though. 

"I'll decide that once I know everything. For now, I won't question you too much. You obviously have a lot to say."

Byleth decided she could live with that answer. She retracted her hand from his just as the door opened and their allies began filing back in. One at a time they cast wary glances to their leaders. Neither could afford to squirm under them. They didn't.

She was now glad her earlier foresight in having the old church staff skip this meeting panned out. 

As the last person reached their chair- Lorenz- Claude leaned back in his chair. This was not his time to speak. He wanted his allies to decide for themselves whether or not to trust Byleth. Making it seem like he was with her may pressure some to come to that decision to avoid standing against them both. 

Byleth swallowed. Her tears had dried and she had wiped her cheeks earlier to conceal her emotions. As per usual, she wore a mask of stoicism. She gazed at her journal for a moment, just as she did before. 

"I know my recent actions have concerned some of you. If not all of you. I wish to apologize for being the reason you have come to doubt your own leaders. Considering our position, I can only imagine how crushing it must be to see me act like this. There is no excuse." She shook her head. Her stare swept the room, catching as many eyes as she possibly could. Some refused eye contact, and she didn't push. But she knew she had everyone's attention. 

"But there are reasons. Many, many reasons. Too many to count. But I know if I don't share them with you, here and now, all of my hard work will fall apart in the end. It is unnatural for me, maybe even unbecoming," she bore holes into the table with her eyes, "but I must beg your trust, and your patience once more. None of you would remember it. It is impossible for you to remember it."

She tilted her head to the right towards her dear friend and gently pushed her journal closer to him. Inviting him to its knowledge. 

"But I do. All of it."

As he hesitantly took the book and opened it to the first page, she rallied her courage to continue. 

"This is not the first war I have seen. Not the first time Edelgard has ascended the throne. Not the first time Jeralt has died in my arms. I have lived it all before, too many times to count. And every time I fail, I turn back the clock and start it all over again. Pick a different class. Save a different house leader. Recruit a different handful of you. End up having to slaughter the ones I couldn't convince to join my class so long ago. Watch helplessly as I am forced to order friends to murder friends, lest they make the first strike. I've seen different locations become the eternal resting places for so many of you. Ferdinand, Lorenz, Leonie, Ignatz, all at some point breathing their last while defending the Bridge. Felix, Ingrid, Rodruigue all meeting their end as Arianrhod fell to imperial forces. Sylvain and Mercedes bleeding out on the Tailtean plains. Caspar and Linhardt forced to throw their lives away to buy time at Fort Merceus. Bernadetta being struck down on the top of the hill at Gronder. Dedue forfeiting his humanity in a last ditch effort to protect Dimitri. Ashe, alone and scared in the fires of Ailel. Hilda and Lysithea struggling to the last to defend Derdriu. Dimitri being pierced by countless lances on Gronder. Claude's body being torn asunder by Amyr near the waters around Derdriu. Edelgard relinquishing her trump card and transforming into an all-powerful nightmare. My own sword cleaving her skull in two."

She is shaking as she speaks, unable to meet anyone's eyes in her turmoil. It was deadly with how silent everyone was, like a collective breath was being held. 

"Nemesis. Rising from the ashes. A sword sister to my own shredding my students left and right around me. Rhea as the Immaculate One, piercing the skies with her cry and crushing the earth with her claws. As an enemy and as an ally. I've had to fell her as both. Along the way I had lost myself in the grief of seeing everyone die under my protection despite my best efforts. Each time I turn back the clock I force myself to retain the knowledge of warfare. To impress everyone so they join my class. Hoard as many allies as possible and try to push through to the indomitable wills towering around me. I have failed every single time to bring everyone home. Someone has always slipped through my grasp. Sometimes I don't even bother seeing the whole fight through. I give up and push myself to return to the school days without even glancing back..." She cupped her hands over her face, shoulders hitching with silent sobs. Her voice had been firm. Sure. Steady. But she couldn't keep it there any longer. The steady stream of years of pent up tears were pooling in the dips of her palms. No one dared make a noise, as if breaking the silence would break the image of their beloved teacher breaking down before their very eyes over things they could not recall. Some were very troubled at her words. Their deaths heralded in places they did not expect. Some were less surprised with how she described their ends. Caspar, for one, had a resigned understanding on his face. Felix was faintly scowling at the table below him. Hilda didn't bother disguising her fear. 

"This. Is my last chance. Everyone's last chance."

She rubbed at her eyes, voice quaking despite the firmness of her words. She chanced looking up into the sea of faces turned towards her. She knew every single feature by heart, every strand of hair. Every memory, every regret, every shadow. She was overcome with overwhelming grief and affection. It was not foreign to her after all of this strife. But she found the desire to love and protect finally beginning to overpower the bone chilling loom of hopelessness. 

"The first in many great obstacles... Is preventing the true Battle of the Eagle and Lion. The three way war hell bent on forcing old classmates to spill their friends' blood. We must capture Gronder and prepare to meet an old friend there. Dimitri."

"Dimitri is dead.... You've already failed."

Felix shot from his chair, his arms crossed and eyes seething. Ingrid, beside him, did not have the courage to pull him back down. 

"He is not. He survived. Dedue rescued him from the execution. The two will appear at Gronder, dead set on taking Edelgard's life. We must intercept them and take them into custody. We have to get through to Dimitri. I fear if we cannot do that... We may not be able to save Edelgard, either."

Felix moved to argue, to say anything to retort at her. He was furious and she was mocking his pain- his sense of loss. And yet, the genuine look resting on her features, the information she has poured her heart out to share with them. It seemed to silenced his words on his tongue. 

"When I choose the Golden Deer house, Dimitri is doomed to die on the fields of Gronder. Edelgard is sentenced to death in her own throne room. Nemesis is guaranteed to rise again."

She pushed her chair back and began unlatching the armor over her chest. Her fingers worked shakily but quickly to remove her usual coat and plates, slowly displaying the full cotton blouse she had begun wearing since returning to the Monastery. There were sudden mutters, questioning her actions, before she parted the button up to reveal the tendrils of black, grey and orange ooze. Red tinted the skin surrounding it. It pulsated like it owned a heart. They were frighteningly reminiscent of the demonic beasts they had become accustomed to killing. Her shirt moved with each twitch. A [red glow](https://twitter.com/snowdnnesketch/status/1246518526711562240?s=19) was visible even under the cotton of her blouse. 

She stared down at it for a moment, the warm glow of the horrifying sight reflecting in her irises. The light that was being cast on her face made her look older than normal, as if uncovering the bags under her eyes and the sickly white her skin had become. 

"The proof of my struggles now lies before you. The consequence of my selfishness, my desire to keep my flock safe...even when they try to tear each other apart."

Her fingers set to returning most of her shirts to their normal place, though she left her armor off and jacket undone to keep most of it in sight. She still buttoned the shirt back up though, her thighs lowering her back into her seat. She dared not look up until she was settled again. Surprise did not come to her from the concerned and shocked looks on her former students. 

"I can no longer shove time back to the beginning. Just using it minutely in battle is a mighty blow. I knew this day would come, which is why I did not fail to document every minute detail of every path I walked. I will not allow failure on my part before my soul leaves these lands. All I ask... Is that you trust your lives to me. You trust the lives of your families to me. The lives of some of your old leaders."

She noticed Claude was staring at her now, having gotten several pages into the book. Every page was packed with words, so it took a lot longer for him to skim than a regular novel would. He seemed a little pale, himself. 

"I am here for my own selfish wish. To see Fódlan through this war without the needless deaths of my students. Even if I did not teach them in your lifetime, I did at one point in one of my past ones. If you find my motives to be mad... I will not chase you or hunt you if you desert me. I understand this is a lot to take in or even believe. But I have nothing to prove it to you but myself, my memories and my journal."

The room was silent, aside from a few anxiously tapping fingers. Her students looked between themselves, exchanging silent conversations and years' worth of stress. Wordless arguments. Nods of heads. 

A soft, steady voice beside her pulled the curtains of the void to the sides. 

"I believe you, Professor."

She turned her head to peer at Ignatz with gentle surprise. He had his eyebrows drawn and lips set determinedly. His shoulders were high and chin set upwards. 

"Everything you've said is, admittedly, really freaky. Hearing you mention a way I die in another reality, I, it's," he swallows thickly, "chilling."

The archer paused for a moment.

"But I have never seen you bear your emotions so openly like this. It reminds me of...with Captain Jeralt. A-at first, it scared me. Seeing you so torn up about it. But, you had a pretty good reason to be worked up like you were."

He flashed a weak smile, hands fiddling with his pant leg under the table. 

"I'll be honest. When you started acting so weird I had a fear that you were on their side. That you'd been replaced like Monica and Tomas. But the Sword of the Creator couldn't lie like that, could it?"

"As much as it pains me to say," Lorenz sighed, his hands massaging his temples, "Ignatz makes good points. While your actions make me doubt your sincerity, the circumstances surrounding you and your power are simply too coincidentally conflicting with my hunch for them to be mere fabrications."

Dorothea hummed her agreement. Her relief was bore proudly on her sleeve. 

"You've always been kind to a fault, Professor. While your tactics might have changed since we last saw you, your motives and emotions haven't. I guess I was too blind to see past it. I had been betrayed once... I suppose I was just paranoid in preventing it from happening again."

"You had us really worried for a while, Professor. I won't bother sugar coating it. Hearing you say Dimitri is alive? And we can save him? I almost want to punch you." Sylvain chuckled softly- darkly. He was carding a hand through his bangs as he spoke. But his voice did not carry any true weight of malice. 

"But you wouldn't just dangle something like that in front of us. You aren't cruel. Mostly."

Byleth smiled at him, appreciating his honesty. She felt a bit lightheaded, but the following students that voiced their affirmations kept her grounded throughout. Pairs of people would agree with each other in expressing their reluctant but solid trust in her. Then groups. Even Felix and Ferdinand caved and revealed they would follow her down her path. Felix did not look happy, but his face was not scowling either. 

Silence fell over them bit by bit until everyone gathered their gazes on the only person that had not spoken. 

Claude was now at the end of the used part of the book, one hand holding it open and the other cupping his chin. He finished the last few notes and closes his eyes to gather himself. Only after replacing the tome onto the table and pushing some hair from his face did he open his dazzling emerald eyes to gaze at his partner. His teacher. His friend. 

".... You heard 'em, Teach. Somehow you reigned in their support. I dunno how many miracles the universe can be bothered to spare for you, but I'm not gonna look a gifted wyvern in the mouth just yet."

An unguarded, sincere smile pulled at the edges of his lips. He didn't have the heart to repress it.

"I bet you already know all of my secrets and ambitions... And have already taken them all into account." A nod. "As I thought."

The Alliance leader arched his back and leaned into the rear of his chair. He stretched his arms in front of him until his shoulders popped. Lysithea muttered a complaint about the noise. He chuckled it off and regarded Byleth with a newfound fondness. 

"Alright. I give. You're in charge, Teach. Just try not to kill yourself in the end of all this, got it?"

A dark cloud passed over her eyes for a moment before she opened her smile up to him more. 

"I will do everything in my power to see this through. And… let me speak with Seteth and the knights about what transpired."

Claude nodded his agreement. The old members of the church would likely have quite a bit to say about some of the things Byleth was claiming. Hearing them second hand from a previous student may cause quite an uproar. 

Only after confirming with everyone in the room that no one was to mention a single word to Seteth and the others did Claude let the topic drop. 

They decided to postpone the remainder of the war council until tomorrow, in the end. 


	7. Somewhere to Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support Rank has increased!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short, but I put extra hard work into the art piece for this chapter. This is one of my favorites so far, and I hooe you enjoy it, too.

Linhardt watched languidly as Caspar doled out numerous jumping jacks in the corner of their room. He had been overly hyper ever since the meeting adjourned. Sure, Linhardt wasn't really in the mood to sleep at the moment either, but he certainly would not bother with trying to physically work off the nervous energy. Just thinking about everything the Professor had told them would be enough to wear him out. Ashe shifted next to him on the bed from criss cross to hiking one leg up against his chest and lounging his arm around his knee. He was reading some novel Linhardt wasn't familiar with. The archer had been carrying it around with him for a while though. 

Better conversation than whatever Caspar would likely spout out, he supposed. 

"What knight is this particular book about, Ashe?"

His friend startled a bit and met his eyes from around where his bangs had slipped out from behind his ear. 

"Oh! This one isn't about knights, actually. I asked Hapi to bring me some books from the Shadow Library about the lesser known Fódlan lore! See, this one," he turned the book around so Linhardt could peer at the page he was reading. It had a diagram of a demonic beast. "is about the history and evolution of creatures affected by crest stone shards! Apparently they are not a new occurrence, though in the past they weren't all violent. Crazy to think of, right?"

Linhardt hummed his agreement. He was rather surprised to be so interested in the topic. It had just enough Crest zest to latch onto that familiar passion he had, while also hinting at the thrill of a little-known topic. 

Then he remembered something. 

"Actually... I do think I recall some records saying similar things. How some demonic beasts are less demonic and more...human. Since most of the demonic beasts are actually humans corrupted by crest stones... It makes sense some may retain part of their humanity. Now, the birds and wolves are another matter. Just like demonic beasts to humans, those wolf like beasts are no more than unfortunate mutts from the wild that stumbled upon just a little too much exposure to a crest stone."

Ashe nodded, his eyes sparkling. 

"Yes! Exactly! It's so interesting to think of all the beasts out there that may actually be conscious beings!- W-well, I suppose it may not be so cool to them, considering what kind of pain they may be in to take those forms..."

Linhardt waved off his apprehension and flaunted a near devilish smile. 

"I would not be so quick to assume as such. If what the Professor said about Rhea is true... Then some humans may have taken on the shapes of beasts out of necessity or sheer choice. They can surely turn back to human as well, considering Rhea stood before us as a human for so long. Though," a glint flashed in his eyes, "we were never sure about Rhea's humanity in full, were we?"

Ashe scratched the back of his neck, his eyes wide. He obviously hadn't thought as deeply into it as Linhardt has. 

"I-well, no, but.. Surely if demonic beasts had the ability to revert to their human forms, they would, right? What makes them any different than the Immaculate One, in that instance?"

Linhardt leaned back as he turned the question over in his head. He had his back to the wall and feet over the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest loosely. You could practically hear the gears turning. 

"Hmm.... The transformation is guided by a crest stone, yes? Without one, there would be no beasts. Demonic or otherwise."

"Ah, well, yes. Every beast I've seen has some form of a crest stone or shard somewhere on its body. Usually the brow."

Linhardt clicked his tongue and snapped his head over to stare at Ashe. 

"The Immaculate One had a crest stone as well. It bore the crest stone of Seiros, if what I found in the Shadow Library is to be believed. But if Seiros is alive- Rhea is alive- from where did the stone originate? Has she held onto it all these years just for transforming?"

Ashe rubbed one of his temples. He was a little overwhelmed by all of this, and it showed in his upturned brows. 

"I... I'm sorry, Linhardt. I'm really not the person to ask these things. I was just reading this book out of curiosity... All I know is more or less what the Professor said, whatever is in this book so far, and my observations from battle."

This snapped the budding crest scholar from his daze enough for him to feel a pang of guilt. He understood all too well how it felt to bring something up to someone casually, only for them to latch onto the topic and drown him with their thoughts. Happens all the time. 

He shook his head and gently pat his friend's shoulder, a knowing smile pulling his lips up. 

  
  
  


"Don't worry about it, Ashe. I can get carried away sometimes, as you well know. Thank you for telling me you were uncomfortable with the topic. Usually, people are so shocked to see me energetic about something they can't bring themselves to shut me up about it!"

"Yeah, Linhardt gets pretty bad."

Caspar grinned from his corner, a hand towel wiping up excess sweat from his neck and forehead. He ignored his partner's pointed pout and leapt over to squeeze in next to Ashe on the bed. 

"If you get him started about something he will go on and on until he gets bored again! I'm sure he has rambled to you before, though."

Despite his earlier guilt in not being able to follow the conversation, Ashe began to laugh at the two's antics. Both the close proximity to his friends and the relief of his earlier guilt had him blushing. 

"You do have a point. I suppose until now I never had the heart to tell him outright."

Caspar slung an arm around Ashe's shoulders and stuck his tongue out at Linhardt from around him. The mage scoffed at the display and hooked a hand onto his hip to channel a bit of sass. 

"Now, I know I was the one to say it first, but that doesn't mean you should be agreeing with me."

Caspar chuckled warmly and raised a fist up in mock victory. The two adored poking fun at each other from time to time. Said times were dictated by when Linhardt had the energy to fire back. Ever since they fled the monastery, Ashe had begun to find himself in the middle of their squabbles more often than not. When most people fight, he is the last person you would see sticking around to get swept up into it. 

But with these two? A fondness would blanket itself over his thudding heart when they included him in their bickering. They never actually fought, as most of their conversations were lacking any actual verbal barbs. The closest they get to fighting is when Linhardt wakes up from a nap at a table or desk and complains about his back, to which Caspar nags him about staying up so late researching to the point he would fall asleep at the table to begin with. This was the most common squabble between the two, and it was born out of sheer affection for one another. Linhardt wanted Caspar to spoil him in his pain and Caspar wanted Linhardt to stop putting himself into situations that end up causing him the pain to begin with. 

Ashe was not only in awe of the ease they had when working together, but was also slightly envious of such a powerful bond. It baffled him some days just how  _ close _ the two were. He was honestly surprised they weren't romantically inclined with one another. Then again, he had noticed the two of them weren't romantically inclined with much of anyone. And, if he was  _ really _ honest, he found their relationship with each other to be far more romantic than a lot of  _ actual  _ intimate relationships. It may seemingly lack sexual attraction, but considering how both of them worked, it was no surprise that wasn't an issue with either of them. Then again, who was he to know if they weren't romantically inclined with one another? They often acted like an old married couple with their squabbling and doting. 

Ashe couldn't believe some days just what it was he got to witness basically every day of his life for the past six years. A true marvel of human nature. 

"Ashe? You okay buddy?"

Caspar's call dragged him out of his thoughts. The two had apparently ceased their teases some time ago and were now focused on him. His cheeks heated up again from the attention, but he did not shy away from their gazes. 

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just got to thinking about things."

Linhardt gently peeled the book out of Ashe's white knuckled grip and set it down on the ground below the bed. Obviously too lazy to actually stand up and put it on the desk. 

"Well, there's an overabundance of things to be thought of in these times, I suppose."

Ashe absently nodded. They had apparently moved closer to him at some point, and he was only noticing it now. Linhardt had his legs criss-crossed with a knee brushing against Ashe's thigh, and Caspar was basically laying against him. He indulged himself a little by relishing the physical contact with his friends. They had never been strangers to this sort of thing. In fact, on the colder days of winter during their five year journey, they had opted to combine their sleeping bags and share one another's warmth. Though, on those occasions, it was Caspar in the middle since he gave off the most body heat. Both of them were naturally physical people. Caspar gave shoulder pats and arm squeezes and fist bumps and hugs, Linhardt gifted leans on the shoulder, brushes on the hand and would sometimes lounge across your lap to catch a light snooze if the time was right. Sure, some of the old Blue Lions had been affectionate in the same way; Mercedes gave the best hugs, Annette was always eager to hold hands with everyone, and Sylvain had a habit of testing his hand people's shoulders while he would chat with them- if he actually liked them. 

But these two goobers on either side of him right now surpassed his entire old house just by themselves. Every time he thought about it, he got all teary eyed and would shake a little.

Some days didn't feel real. Like he didn't deserve such amazing people in his life. 

His emotions must be pretty transparent on his face, because before he had the chance to shove down his tears, there was a gentle hand brushing away the few stragglers that had already rolled off his tear ducts and onto his cheeks. 

Maybe he had just been thinking too much about what the Professor said in the meeting earlier. About Ailell. What ifs- or if what Byleth said is to believed- whens. There had been a time in another life when he met his end in a hellscape void of his beloved companions and mentors. Every now and then since learning about it, he had felt the phantom brush of fire on his legs. It felt surreal. 

But he knew the sensation of an arm around his shoulders and a hand on his leg was now far more real than any lava pit could have been in another time. He wasn't sure who to, but he was grateful. Perhaps the Professor had planned all of this out? He wasn't sure.

But that didn't matter to him too much when Caspar was looking at him with that once-in-a-blue-moon tender look and Linhardt was resting his head atop his. 

Somewhere in the back of Ashe's mind, he set a reminder for himself to look into the existence of mind reading. Surely he wasn't THAT easy to read. Especially to Caspar.

"Y-you guys are too good to me."

Ashe sniffled a little as he finally parted the clouds over his mind so he could speak to them. He decided that was enough mental lingering for one night. 

"Nah, you deserve way better than us, honestly," Linhardt huffed a laugh at the prod, "But I couldn't think of anyone better to stick by our sides. Y'know? We've already come this far together."

Ashe nodded faintly, not wanting to jostle Linhardt from where he was still pressed into his side. 

"Yes. I suppose I'm just feeling a little sentimental is all."

"Well, considering the fact our long time teacher and leader just told us how she has seen us die in another timeline? I don't blame you for being a little self reflective right now. The only thing I could think of when I first heard her say those things was, 'Wow. Even when we end up being killed by the Professor, I'm still stuck healing and fighting beside Caspar. There truly is no escape, is there?'" Linhardt shifted away just enough so he could raise a hand to his chest in a half hearted dramatic gesture. Caspar scoffed at his teasing. 

"That's mean, Linhardt! Even if I had to die at  _ Merceus _ of all places, I'm glad it was with you!"

"How romantic."

Ashe, for the umpteenth time this evening, found himself giggling a little. Even in spite of the grim topic, his friends easily find a way to keep things light. Maybe they were doing it for him. He wasn't sure. He thought he saw a bit of a shadow cross Linhardt's eyes a few seconds ago, but now it was nowhere to be found as he smiled lovingly at Caspar, who was going on about something related to the ballistas in the fort. 

"Caspar, I love you, but would you be so kind as to shut up? I'm growing weary and simply  _ must _ rest my  _ aching _ bones."

"We didn't even do anything today, Lin! How are you tired??"

Now they were back in familiar territory. Ashe loosened his shoulders a little amongst the easy back and forth that now filled the room. Caspar had left the bed to change into his night wear and Linhardt had scooted away to begin brushing his hair for the night. 

Ashe slipped off the bed and began preparing for rest as well, noticing he would need to do laundry in the morning. He was on his last pair of night clothes, it seemed. He had just settled into the pallet on the ground when Caspar started whining to Linhardt again. 

"I miss the nights we would spend outside Liiiin! Bring your pillows down here and sleep on the floor with us!!"

"Absolutely not. I will wake up and no longer be able to walk. Hard wood is a far cry from grassy soil, Caspar."

"Lin, you're just twenty-one years old!"

"And?  _ Age _ does not correlate with  _ back pain _ ,  _ Caspar _ ."

Honestly? Ashe could fall asleep to this. In fact, he nearly did. He must have dozed off and it was some time later because he was now being gingerly pushed closer to the bed as the pallet was adjusted to make more room on the hardwood. He lifted his head from his pillow to see Caspar laying the sheets and blankets from the bed onto the floor. He seemed rather pleased with himself. He stepped out of view for a moment, only to return with a frustrated crest scholar muttering curses under his breath. He sat down in the middle of the pallet and craned his back to lower Linhardt down to his opposite side. Some wiggling and apologizing to Ashe later, and he had Linhardt nestled into his neck and halfway on his chest. Both of his arms were out, and in a spur of the moment impulse, Ashe pulled the one extended to him under his head atop his pillow. He rolled over to face away from Caspar, though his upper hand had moved to hold his friend's. Caspar must have been over the moon from this situation, or perhaps Ashe was just enabling this behavior, because not a moment later the archer was pulled flush against Caspar's side. His head was no longer technically over his pillow, but Caspar's bicep served the purpose surprisingly efficiently. Even if his cheeks were burning from the blatant show of affection, Ashe found himself relishing the surge of emotions washing over his tired brain. Even if they were on the cusp of war and tomorrow wasn't guaranteed, he felt so painfully at peace in that moment. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he felt as wanted as he does in [this moment](https://twitter.com/snowdnnesketch/status/1247354583640391680?s=19). He fought off sleep as long as he could, wanting to savor every single second he could of it. It was the steady breathing of his two friends that did him in at the end, swallowing him up with an overwhelming feeling of calm. 

Despite the revelations of that day, and despite the uncertainty looming over them come morning, Ashe could not recall a night he slept quite so soundly.


	8. Lorenz is Just Tired.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz has some questions he likely doesn't care too much about the answers for. 
> 
> Seteth makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha, burn out is finally starting to catch up to me. I may space chapters out a little more as I catch up on the backlog. This chapter comes across as comedic filler but I swear it is still important. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience so far. ;,^)

The next morning, Claude found himself surprised to learn Byleth was sleeping in. Apparently she spent nearly every hour of the night talking things out with Seteth and the other Knights of Seiros. His nosy side reeeaaally wanted to ask one of them how things went, but if they were up just as late as she was, he knew they'd likely be just getting to bed about now too. 

Alas, he forfeited the mission and instead resigned himself to sitting in the dining hall with a few buns and a cup of water. It was still pretty early, early for even him. Back in his academy days he frequently missed breakfast on the mornings he wasn't required to rise with the sun. Ingrid called him out on it a few times, but he didn't really change his schedule. That would require sacrificing his late night researching time. 

These days he is usually up during those hours just thinking. But, due to his position, he forces himself to wake up at an acceptable hour to continue his work as leader. Sucks to suck. But that's just how things go. 

His eyes caught on a blur of purple, and not to his immediate surprise he was joined by Lorenz at the table. His old friend sat across from him and looked absolutely haggard. 

"You look terrible, Lorenz."

"How kind of you to say so."

He had not bothered getting anything to eat, so it was obvious his intentions were to speak with the head deer. Claude studied his long time ally, not missing the scarce but visible knots in his usually perfectly kept hair. Even the rose usually perched on his chest was a little crooked. Was that even possible?

"Gold for your thoughts?"

Lorenz heaved a somewhat over-dramatic sigh and supported his cheek upon his palm. It was a rare sight to see Lorenz' elbows on the table. 

"I suppose I, like many others, have been thinking quite a bit about what the Professor enlightened us with. Some of it would have been easy to brush off on its own. But to hear everything all at once with such clarity and urgency? I could not turn my nose away from the information so placidly."

Claude hummed his understanding around one particularly large bite of fruit bun. He fought back a smirk as he began attempting to respond around the food in his mouth. 

"Hue row, ah thek," that didn't get him far, as Lorenz was now settling him with one of his signature disgusted glares. "Whaap??"

"Absolutely deplorable. You have time to joke at a moment like this??"

Claude made a show of rolling his eyes as he swallowed down the last bits of the pastry. He ended up not caring that his smile has returned in spite of his company's completely justified frustration. 

"Sorry, sorry. I thought I could squeeze a laugh out of you." The glare did not lessen. "Obviously I was mistaken. But, hear me out for a second." He lifted his cup to his lips to wash down some of the preserve that had coated his throat, returning it to the table once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of his mouth. 

"Sure, it's a lot to unpack. And I did read quite a few more details than what she mentioned in the meeting… but despite having seen all of them, I'm not losing any sleep over it. Call me irresponsible or too laid back, I don't care. But my faith in the Professor is pretty well restored."

Lorenz stared him down for a minute or so, as if contemplating whether or not he wanted to set the kitchen on fire on a spontaneous whim. An understandable sentiment, really. 

"I….know you are a good judge of character for the most part. You aren't exactly quick to trust." He paused, looking like he wanted to add more. 

"...But?"

"But." He finally broke eye contact long enough to pinch his brow between his index and thumb. "I just feel that maybe perhaps you are allowing yourself to be a touch too lenient with the Professor. I know I said I would believe her in the meeting, and I suppose that sentiment is true enough." He lowered his hand again down to his lap so he could lock gazes with his leader again. "I feel as though I just miss when the war seemed so 'black and white'. The empire is bad, the Alliance is good. Kill Edelgard to end the war. Dimitri is dead. Rhea is missing. Hearing that quite nearly all of that is somehow utterly false? And apparently with enough proof in her journal to back it up? I simply find myself reeling with shock, even now."

Claude nodded, his smile having faded a bit. Lorenz had not changed too much since his academy days in the aspect of questioning authority. He had always challenged Claude in his tactics and schemes. Hearing him voice his concerns about the Professor in this light was  _ almost  _ comforting. But if he had to choose between comfort and practicality, Claude knew he as the leader would need to want Lorenz to follow his command without too many questions. 

Alas, he knows with  _ Lorenz  _ that is all but impossible. 

"You aren't being all that unreasonable. It's a  _ lot  _ to take in. I get it. I didn't explode during the meeting only due to the Professor shedding some light on the key points to me before everyone else heard the whole story. That, and burying my nose into her journal helped keep my cool. She left out the more refined details, but aside from the dates and fine pointed details of what she briefed about, you aren't missing much information. Now, there are some details about the heroes relics that she brushed over… but I think she had good reason to shelf that for a different day."

"Heroes relics? What of them?"

Claude waved a hand at the question. "Their origins. Ever since she gave Thyrsus over to Lysithea you haven't had the need to wield one, so I  _ suppose _ enlightening you wouldn't hurt all that much." Lorenz did not make a comment over the placement of his family's heirloom, but instead appeared very focused on Claude's upcoming explanation. It was almost cute how intent he was. 

"The heroes relics are actually the bones and blood of the Nabatean people. The Immaculate One, Rhea, is one of the last remaining people of that tribe. They are considered the 'Children of the Goddess', and are the origins of not only the relics, but of the crests themselves. The crest stones are actually their hearts, and those with their crests are either their direct descendants or descendants of the ten elites that stole their blood to force their crests onto themselves. The Sword of the Creator is  _ apparently  _ the body of Sothis that Nemesis stole and crafted into a sword. That's also how he got the Crest of Flames. When Seiros struck him down it was not to rid of his "evil", it was mostly just to get the bones of Sothis back. Or, that's what the Professor wrote in her journal. I mean, considering how ugly the heroes relics are, I don't really doubt that they're made of bones and partially alive. Grosses me out, kinda. But they're a necessary evil for now."

Lorenz had paled a few shades and was utterly quiet in his seat. An expected reaction, all things considered. 

"Yeah. I was pretty shocked when I read about all that. I had been snooping around trying to find that out for so long back in the academy days. Just being handed all the answers I was looking for in one fell swoop was  _ kinda _ anticlimactic, not gonna lie."

His company finally snapped from his trance and grumbled something under his breath. Once again he was rubbing his temples in an attempt to stir the overflowing cauldron that was his aching brain. Poor poor Lorenz. 

"In any case, that's most all of the info I have on the topic. There's a few things branching from that that I found out but… I think that should stay between the Professor and whoever she trusts to read her book."

Lorenz slowly nodded. He looked downright pained at the current moment. Claude scolded himself for feeling a smile rising up his chest. How inconsiderate!

At long last, Lorenz rose from his seat, muttered what could barely pass as a 'thank you' and slinked off to what would likely be his room. Shocking Lorenz into silence? Hell must have frozen over his morning too.

The wyvern master returned his attention to his buns, which were now pathetically cold. He ate them anyway, unbothered in his meal for the remainder of its duration. 

  
  
  


Byleth jumped awake from a clattering noise in her room. She reached under her pillow in the same motion to snatch out her dagger, but was caught halfway in the motion by her own realisation of the situation. 

It was just the Sword of the Creator jittering around on her desk. 

It's a wonder she slept this long with that goddess awful racket. 

Feeling a mite irritated, she slunk her way out of bed and onto the woolen carpet below. There are many odd ways to be woken up. There are many more frequent ways to wake up. And yet this is not the first time her sword has jolted her back to the realm of the living. Unfortunate, but it's her own fault for not wrapping it up in sheep skin before going to bed. 

She picked it up by the handle, glaring faintly into the hole where the Crest stone was designed to fit, as though this would scold it into silence. Sure, it has no chance of working, but it didn't hurt to try. 

Alas, even in her grasp, it vibrated and swayed like some drunken pirate high on caffeine. Or Manuela on any given weeknight. 

She pulled her usual leather bindings out from under the stack of books on the back of her desk and wrapped the weapon up in it firmly. She did not want it jumping and jigging its way to freedom, after all. After making sure it was nestled under a hefty tome and most definitely  _ not  _ making noise, she returned to her bed to try and get in a few more minutes of sleep. Even when cozied under the blankets and nestled into her pillow, she felt sleep's taunting fingers only brush her head over. Then again, her staggering but swiftly roaring thoughts were doing a bang up job of keeping rest at bay. 

She was anxious about Seteth's promise to her. Well, it could be interpreted as either a vow or a threat, and Byleth wasn't quite sure which to refer to it as quite yet. 

The talk with Seteth late last night into early morning had gone about as well as she predicted it would. She had spent a couple of her past attempts talking things over with him about everything, and had even confronted Rhea outright on all of the matters the second she stepped into the audience room. 

That's not to say it was an  _ awful  _ idea….

Just…

Well, she isn't in that timeline at the moment now, is she?

She had spoken to both Seteth and Flayn at the same time, firstly explaining her position and giving them all of the information they would be more pleased to hear first. The location of Rhea, her health, the location of the Agarthans, etc. Once she felt she had established her trustworthiness in the subjects, she delved more into the information the two had been very clear in hiding from everyone. Be it by Rhea's command or their own volition, Byleth still wasn't quite sure. 

And… Well…

  
  
  


"....and that Rhea placed the Crest Stone of Sothis in my chest alongside my heart. That is how the goddess has resided within me, how I can use the Sword of the Creator, and why I was able to fuse with Sothis in the sealed forest."

Flayn picked at the end of her skirt, feet kicking slightly under the chair she was huddled in. Seteth was seated in his office chair, hands folded under his chin as he listened to what Byleth had to say. He had yet to burst out at her, but judging by the vein in his temple and the sweat nestled in his brow, it was only a matter of time. 

When he deemed her finished with her thought, he lowered his hands down to the desk and spoke with a decisively stern voice. 

"Hearing all of this from you has brought me great concern, truth be told. You know far more than I do, and perhaps even more than Lady Rhea once did. That is… not comforting. Our enemies know much. I could understand why they may have all of this knowledge. But an ally? Someone who has only known of Seiros' name for less than a decade? I find the sincerity of your claims to cooperation a little less than palpable."

"Brother…" Flayn still had her head ducked, though she peered through her bangs to create eye contact with her father. 

"Why would the professor be letting us know all of this if she were truly allied with our foes? This is more than locations and numbers. More than a bait to lure us into a decisively placed trap. Surely you can see this, can you not?"

"Perhaps she  _ is _ giving us more details than the enemy would like. It could still be a ploy to gain our trust and spur us to act out of foolishness. And that is still trusting what she says is true. She has no definite proof-"

"Her knowledge  _ is _ her proof, Brother!"

Flayn snapped her chin up and settled a once-in-a-blue-moon glare upon her kin. Her fists were balled up in her lap, shaking gently. 

"She knows of our people. She even perhaps knows more about Lady Rhea than we do combined! Do you truly think the enemy could know so much about her when we worked so hard to keep everything secret all these decades?? Her words are proven by the effects of her affliction! There is no other explanation so lacking in blemish than the one she has told us. And, given how Jeralt acted with Lady Rhea… I find it hard to turn my heart from her plea. She  _ must  _ be speaking the truth."

Seteth stifled a sigh and leaned back in his chair. One of his hands was nursing his head in the rumination of a migraine. 

"I… I understand your sentiment, Flayn. Truly. I do. We owe the professor a great debt, one I am sure I could never begin the process of repaying. However, I refuse to place you in harm's way to make right with that debt."

Byleth had followed their back and forth until now. Despite herself, she had found the way they spoke of her a touch amusing. They talked about her like she wasn't in arm's length of them both. Still, she pushed aside her inward smile and spoke to the two once more. 

"I have no right to ask such a high request from you. You two have done nothing but support me until now. You have done your best to keep the knights together, and that allowed the monastery to begin restoration far quicker than it could have without you. My students may have been in danger if they could not properly care for themselves before these first fights. But I fear I cannot settle for just asking you to restore the monastery. I must ask you to reconsider accompanying me to Ailel."

Seteth took in a deep breath as he shifted both hands to slowly fold across his lap. He closed his eyes as he steadied his pulse, and with it his temper. 

"I understand your logic. And I understand your tactics. But…"

"Brother, would you rather her venture to Ailel by herself?"

"I, well. No. But-"

"Well then," Flayn hopped from her seat and threw her hands down to her side's with frustration, "cast aside your doubts! I have made my decision. I will accompany the professor to Ailel to meet with Judith whether you are with us or not."

"Flayn-"

" _ Father. _ "

The two stared each other down for a few moments. Flayn was quite ruffled and her cheeks were pink from the heat of the moment. Seteth almost looked shocked. Almost. 

Frustration rolled off of the two of them in waves for the duration of the staredown. It was finally Seteth who buckled, rubbing two fingers into his forehead in a vain attempt to soothe his headache. He whispered some colorful words under his breath before finally raising his eyes to meet Byleth's.

"Very well. There you have it. The two of us will accompany you to Ailel. I would _prefer_ you to bring at _least_ _one_ battalion… but I suppose that is your call to make and not mine."

Byleth opened her mouth to respond, something akin to a smile growing on her lips.

"However," said jubilation was effectively cut short by her advisor, "I will make you a promise. Be it for your loss or gain depends entirely on your actions and intentions."

He rose from his seat and strolled around his desk, resting his backside against the lacquered wood so he towered over where the professor sat in her chair. 

"If you seem to be...  _ straying _ from the plans you have promised us at any given moment either on this mission or any in the future… I will not rest until I have  _ corrected _ you myself."

He snaked his arms over his chest to cross them, a shadow falling over part of his face as he tilted it upwards a little. 

"Understood?"

  
  
  


And thus, Byleth now laid in her bed, recounting the chill in his words and the daggers in his eyes instead of embracing the sweet embrace of slumber. It was well past dawn by now, and she knew she would likely need to get up for the day's preparations to depart for Ailel. 

But she had barely gotten more than two hours of sleep, and frankly she was rather quick in her work when motivated by a quickly approaching deadline. Instincts of a teacher.

So, in a last ditch effort, she hauled her pillow out from under her to firmly press it to the side of her head in an attempt to keep the thoughts out of her head by plugging her skyward ear. It worked well enough, as before long she managed to weasel in a few more winks of sleep. 


End file.
